Obsession Down Under

by MACADAM, LAYNE

  “I hadn’t planned on following you in.”

  He had the audacity to grin. She made a face and stood her ground. She could pinpoint the instant that light dawned, when he’d realized she was self-conscious about her body. His eyes darkened and hooded over. Now that he knew, of course he’d oblige and turn away, but he confounded her by saying, “I told you, babe, I like the view.”

  She gulped. Here was a man to die for, athletic, handsome, admiring her as if she had the body and face of a beauty queen when it was he who was the model type. But it was his truth, evident in his eyes. The knowledge thrilled her, so throwing off the last of her inhibitions, she climbed out of bed and even added a sway to her walk as she flounced across the room.

  The wolf whistle stopped her in her tracks by the bathroom door. So exuding a confidence his words had given her, she did a slow turn, stretched her arm above her head, and treated him to a full-frontal view.

  “God, woman you make me feel like a dog with two tails. I don’t know which one to wag first.”

  An inner glow spread through her body and laughter erupted through lips that parted in a grin at his nonsense. “Oh, Whip, you say the silliest things.”

  “Just being honest.”

  Cloaked in warmth and only a little embarrassed, she blew him a kiss and then swung around and pulled the bathroom door closed behind her.

  Chapter 7

  Whip loved a woman with a fuller figure, and the white globes of Jessie Rose’s ass teased and turned him on. He wanted to bury himself between her cheeks and take her from behind. That was, until she turned, and then his eyes almost popped out of his skull. What a vision. He adjusted his boys. Her womanly figure was all contours and curves, big breasts jiggling, he wanted to hold and support them, be her human bra. He’d wondered whether her tattoo had just been an embellishment of their cybersex play, so when he discovered it for real on her depilated pussy he was more than a little thrilled. God, it was dead sexy. Visualizing her now, naked in all her glory, his dick went to full mast. The toilet flushed, and he heard the shower turn on.

  Fuck the game.

  He peeled the shirt over his head and tossed it onto the bed. His slacks hit the deck next, followed by his briefs. Buck-naked and on a mission, he barged into the bathroom.

  The look of happy surprise on her face warmed him as he stepped under the shower spray in front of her.

  “What are you doing?” She asked with a smile.

  His mouth released the nipple he’d latched on to. “You have to ask?”

  “What I meant is, I thought you’d already showered.”

  “Mmm, but as you so rightly pointed out before you dropped off to sleep, I’ve been remiss. I owe these poor neglected Yankee tits some quality time, and it’s my civic duty to hop to it and make amends. Can’t have you getting the wrong impression of Aussie blokes.”

  He lifted her breast and drew the tip into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth and rolling his tongue, sucking and teasing the stiffening nub.

  With a soft moan, she dropped her head back and gripped his shoulders. He nipped her nipple ever so gently, and she moaned louder, a sexy sound—a real turn-on. Her areole was a huge soft disc, the center a turgid elongated nub, just how he liked them. He suckled some more, drawing deep, her response a satisfying moan.

  When he released her to speak, she whimpered.

  “But in my defense, Jessie Rose, I was distracted by that great ass of yours, to say nothing of this amazing pussy.” The knuckles on his left hand brushed her mound as he lowered his head to her other breast for some more action. When her nipple became a hard little pebble in his mouth, she squirmed and her face lit with rapture. It was his mission then to make her come by pleasuring her tits alone.

  Whip’s mouth was a pleasure palace. A toe-curling, knee-trembling, core-tingling, pleasure palace. When he’d released her nipple to speak, she’d almost cried in frustration. If he hadn’t taken the other one into his mouth when he did, she would have grabbed him by both ears, shoved his face onto her tit and held him there until he did.

  “You are so not to speak again,” she told him.

  In response, he took her other nipple between his thumb and finger and gave it a slight twist. The one in his mouth he grazed with his teeth. Pleasure-pain shot clear to her core. Her womb contracted and moisture seeped between her thighs. “Ahhh.” She couldn’t withhold the moan of pure ecstasy that escaped her lips.

  “You like that, babe?” Whip rolled her nipple again and gave it another twist.

  Her pussy clenched. She could feel her orgasm building, gathering momentum. “Don’t stop, don’t stop.” She grabbed his head and guided his face back to her breast. The feel of his lips tugging, nipping, drawing her nipple out was divine and making her weak at the knees. Her fingers entwined in his silky hair, and her head dropped back. It wasn’t possible to come from just having your breasts pleasured, was it? Two minutes later, she splintered apart and had her answer.

  “Is there no end to your talents, Whip?” She slumped against him as she coasted back to an even plain.

  “I just aim to please, ma’am.”

  The self-satisfied grin he gave her was cocky. Well, two could play that game.

  “So do I, Cowboy.” She soaped her hands and, dropping to her knees, curled one hand around his shaft and cupped his testicles with the other. With intent and purpose, she stroked him, and a nanosecond later he lengthened and thickened.

  “No complaints from me, babe.” He leaned back against the tile, closing his eyes.

  Water cascaded over his muscled torso and beaded in the thick thatch of wiry curls at the base of his manhood. The cock slipping through her fist was an impressive specimen. She smiled and increased the rhythm.

  The groan that came from the back of his throat was guttural and pleasing to her ear. “You like that?”

  “Mmm, magic fingers. I guess you could put this in your book.”

  She chortled. “As long as you don’t think I’m just using you for research.”

  “Use away, babe. I’m more than happy to do my part for the literary world.”

  “Oh goody, my very own lab rat to use as I please.” She leaned forward as she spoke, and her thick hair cascaded down her breast in wet, ropey tangles. She gathered the strands up and tossed the dark mass over her shoulder. “Now tell me, do you like this?” she asked, blowing puffs of cool air across the swollen head of his shaft in short sharp bursts.

  “Hmm, I wasn’t paying attention, can you run that by me again?”

  She cupped him, and sheathing her teeth wrapped her lips around the head of his penis and sucked.

  “Now that I can really endorse.” He grunted, tunneling his fingers into her hair.

  He was silky to the touch, and she fisted him as her mouth found its own rhythm. His satisfying groans spurred her on and she kept up the motion until she felt his balls tighten.

  “Geezus, Jessie Rose, if you don’t want me to come in your mouth, you’d better back off now.”

  It was hard to smile while performing head, but he was so courteous she couldn’t help it as her lips drew back. She didn’t release him, though. Instead, she kept up the action, taking him deeper into her velvet cavern.

  Kaboom.

  Whip was breathing hard when she released him. But when she went to stand, he clasped her under the arms and helped her to her feet.

  “Wow, babe, if my opinion counts for anything, then I definitely recommend that for the book.” He folded her into his arms, her breasts pressed against his solid, defined abs, his broad hands gripping her butt.

  “Duly noted.” She giggled. “Although why am I not surprised?”

  He chuckled and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “As much as I don’t want to, I think we’d best make a move.” He
gave her hug and stepped from the shower. Once dry, he headed for the door but then turned back. “I’m going to crack open the champagne and make a toast, so don’t be long.”

  “A toast? What kind of a toast?”

  “Ah, you’ll have to wait and see,” he replied, closing the door behind him.

  Chapter 8

  Whip took the bubbly and strawberries from the mini bar. When Jessie Rose had fallen asleep earlier, he’d thought no point letting them get hot, so put them into the fridge for later.

  The popping of the champagne cork coincided with her coming out of the bathroom wearing nothing but her birthday suit.

  He whistled and handed her a crystal flute filled with the bubbly liquid and topped with a strawberry. She hit him with a siren’s smile, and on impulse, he pulled a single rose from the vase and held it out to her. “A perfect rose for a perfect Rose.”

  Her blue eyes twinkled, her mouth widened, and her cheeks puffed out as she took the flower from him and raised it to her nose, inhaling the perfume. “Um, thank you, it’s lovely,” she stammered.

  Unsure where that corny line had come from, he cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck and changed tactics. “Now for that toast.” He raised his glass. “To you, Jessie Rose, the bravest most adventurous woman I know.”

  “Me? Brave? How do you figure?”

  “For taking a chance on me, for flying all that way alone, for wanting to experience everything, even though, you may be scared. The Bridge climb being one example.”

  “Well, I haven’t done that yet.”

  Twin spots of color blossomed on her cheeks which prompted him to say, “Don’t sell yourself short, just accept the compliment.” He reached out and clinked his glass with hers. They both then took a sip.

  “Now it’s my turn,” Jessie Rose said. “To you, Whip, for your amazing generosity and for taking a chance on me.”

  “It was my pleasure.” After their flutes touched for the second time, he took a swallow and then alluded to her state of undress. “Like the outfit.”

  “I wish I could say the same about you, but you’re fully clothed.”

  “Well, I’m dressed for dinner, and as much as I like what you’re wearing, if you want to eat I think you might cause a riot if you go downstairs like that.”

  She pulled the strawberry from the side of the glass and nibbled. The way her pouty lips wrapped around the fruit gave him flashbacks of her nibbling on something else, and the something else rose up in remembrance.

  Her chin dropped and her gaze went to his crotch. “Ditto, big boy.” With a throaty laugh, she sashayed over to her suitcase and flipped out a little black cocktail dress and turned back to him. “Yep, a definite riot, I’d say.”

  His skin heated. Clearing his throat again, he adjusted his dick, but his eyes never left her as she shimmied into her underwear and slipped the dress over her head.

  “Lend a hand, Cowboy.”

  The unblemished curve of her back was presented, so he crossed the room to zip her dress.

  “Thanks, Cowboy.”

  She stepped into her shoes and turned to face him. God, she looked good, curvy and chic, and she’d dressed quicker than any other woman he’d ever known.

  “Gee, you must really be hungry,” he blurted out, trying to steer his one-track mind back onto an even keel.

  “Yeah, well all that wild monkey sex has given me quite an appetite.” She palmed his groin and fondled him. “And if you want some more of this then you need to feed me.”

  It was like she’d read his mind. “I guess we’d better hop to it and go downstairs and get you fed.” His hand rested on her back as he guided her to the door. “The sooner we eat, the sooner I can satisfy that other appetite of yours.”

  The restaurant was a good choice, cozy and popular, and they didn’t have to brave the disruptive weather. The waiter led them to a table and handed out a menu each as they took their seats.

  “Will you folks be having wine this evening?”

  “Yes indeed, would you like red or white, honey?”

  “Mmm, I’d like to try an Australian white.”

  Whip selected a Hunter Valley Semillon and gave the waiter the order.

  “I think the weather is worsening,” he said as a clap of thunder sounded.

  “It’s coming down in buckets, sir, and not likely to improve before the weekend,” the waiter commented before disappearing to get the wine.

  “Oh no.” Jessie Rose’s face crumpled.

  “Don’t worry, I have a suggestion. We can do the holiday in reverse. Head off to Highland Glen tomorrow and come back later to do the Sydney sightseeing before you fly home.”

  “You, my friend, are not just a handsome face.”

  “We can head north over the Harbour Bridge, hug the coast as far as Newcastle before turning inland, or if you’d rather we can drive west over the Blue Mountains through Bathurst. It takes a little longer that way, but the choice is yours.”

  “Is your property in the outback? I’d really like to see that.”

  “No, not at all, though we can certainly detour across to some of that country if you like. It’s a roundabout way to get home, and we’ll have to stop somewhere overnight, but it’s not that far out of the way.”

  “In that case, I vote for the mountains.”

  “Sounds like a plan, Jessie Rose. What do you say we have a sleep-in and leave after breakfast about half nine? That way we’ll miss most of the peak hour traffic.”

  “Mmm, can I have some of what you gave me earlier before we leave?”

  “Babe, you keep batting those baby blues at me, and you can have whatever your little heart desires.”

  “Then I think for now I’ll have the Barramundi.”

  “Good choice, one of my favorite fish.” Whip signaled the waiter and placed the order. He’d decided on a steak, figuring if this afternoon’s events were anything to go by he’d need a hearty meal for his stamina.

  It was way after nine-thirty when Jessie Rose and he made their way downstairs the following day. A bit later than planned, but the night’s activities and the morning’s had been well worth the delay.

  After stowing their luggage in the back of the Ute, Whip drove out of the city while Jessie Rose amused herself and him by reading the suburb names and signs as they passed through.

  As they crossed the Parramatta River, she remarked, “Parramatta, is that an Aboriginal word?”

  “Yep, sure is.”

  “Does it mean anything in particular?”

  “Heck yeah, it means Holy Toledo, baby, there’s a lot of darn eels in that river . . . or words to that effect.” He laughed, and she joined in.

  “You’re so funny! It’s one of the many things I like about you.”

  “My brothers might disagree, but to answer your question, the River runs through the suburb and must have been full of eels at one time,” he explained.

  “E-yew, that sounds terrible. Imagine swimming in there.”

  “Yeah, gross, but I think all the splashing about would scare them off so they’d leave you pretty much alone,” he surmised out loud.

  They continued along the highway, and he pointed out different places of interest. She fired off questions one after the other and soaked up the information like a sponge.

  A number of miles farther on, he said, “See those mountains up ahead? They’re called the Blue Mountains, part of the Great Dividing Range that runs through three states down the East Coast from Queensland, through New South Wales and ends in Victoria. They rival your Rockies in length but not in height. They’re mere hills in comparison.”

  “I’ve never seen blue mountains before.”

  “They’re not really blue, they only appear that way from a distance
. You see, the mountains are covered in Eucalyptus trees and in the heat their leaves discharge a fine vapor of oil. It’s the refracting light that makes the haze look blue from a distance.”

  “Wow, what a font of knowledge you are.”

  “Nah, not at all.” His chuckle was deep and hearty as he laughed. “But I do have a Science degree and a PHD in Animal Husbandry, and Highland Glen’s breeding program is tops in Australasia.”