Coming Attractions

by Rosie Vanyon

  “Oh, Levi…” she moaned, wiggling and arching beneath him, wanting more than the maddening torment of his unhurried caresses.

  He ignored her plea, moving his right hand to clamp her wrist hard on the bed so her movement was limited. His show of strength sent a rush of liquid heat to her center and she knew she was more than ready for him. But still, he did not stop.

  His tongue trailed down her breast, pausing at the puckered nipple to lap and flick until she squirmed and bowed, reaching for him with her free hand.

  He held both wrists now as he attended to her other breast, licking and kissing in gentle spirals before finally taking the straining peak into his mouth and sucking hard. She drank in a shocked breath, but he was already moving lower, zigzagging leisurely across and down her rib cage, lapping and swirling his tongue over and around her abdomen.

  She felt lightheaded with the pleasure of his attentions. Her breath was erratic, her heart was thundering, and there was a faint but definite roaring in her ears. She was so hot she thought she might spontaneously combust. A bead of sweat drizzled between her aching breasts. She burned with white-hot need. Her whole body was on fire for Levi.

  “Just getting started, baby,” he taunted, moving lower still.

  She whimpered. And when he released her wrists and levered himself down the bed, she did not move, did not fight. In that moment, she had completely lost her own will. She was at Levi’s mercy, one hundred percent. Her limbs were limp, and her mind was adrift like some lost dinghy. The only fixed point in her consciousness was the erotic trail his tongue was taking down her electrified body. She wanted the exquisite suffering to stop, and yet she needed it to go on forever.

  Cara almost climaxed when he dipped his tongue into her belly button, and by the time he reached the waistband of her panties, she was breathless and groaning, squirming beneath him, begging him for completion.

  She felt the top of her panties pull away from her skin and dared, for a moment, to open her eyes. The sight of his gleaming white teeth tugging at the pastel lace and exposing the dark triangle beneath sent her to a new realm of desperation. No matter what happened in the future, that image would be forever seared into her brain—his wild glittering eyes, his sinister smile, and her panties between his teeth.

  And then the panties were gone. Somewhere down her thighs, she registered dimly, but she didn’t care because now she could feel his sweltery breath at her center, ruffling the short crop of hair between her legs, dancing over her engorged lips.

  Every cell in her body was shouting for release, every fiber of her attention dovetailed to the place where his mouth hovered.

  “Please…” she beseeched him like a woman dying.

  He lightly rubbed his lips over her swollen vulva.

  “Please what?” he asked softly, like a predator.

  “Please. More,” she panted as his tongue glazed the center seam of her femininity, once, twice…

  “Is that all? Just more?” he mocked, offering her another deeply unsatisfying lick.

  “God, no,” she breathed. “I need… Please. Make me come.”

  He did not hesitate. He slid his tongue deeply between her feminine folds, zeroing in on the swollen bud at the heart of her sex. Unerringly, he lapped at her pulsing clit, pausing to draw it between his lips and graze it with his teeth before resuming his unbearably insistent rhythm of licking and sucking and flicking. Her breath came harder, faster. She could feel the tell-tale wave of heat rising and crashing up through her body. Her mind was letting go any semblance of rationality. And then he took her clit hard into his mouth as he plunged a thick finger inside her and she was detonating like nitroglycerine.

  Chapter Eleven

  They were roused in the early evening by the front door knocker echoing through the house. Bed-headed and barely dressed, Levi opened the door to Officer Brian Shepherd.

  “Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Callister.”

  “Levi. What can I do for you, Brian?”

  “Would you mind if I stepped inside for a moment?”

  “Of course, Brian,” said Cara, sidling up behind Levi, having dressed hastily. “Come in out of the weather.”

  If Brian noticed that her shirt was buttoned incorrectly or that her cheeks were pink from whisker burn, he bit his tongue.

  The trio made their way to the back kitchen, flipping on lights as they went. The weird twilight zone feelings of familiarity and strangeness hadn’t dissipated for Cara. The house still bore hints of her homespun childhood, especially this room at the back of the house—the scratched refrigerator, the laminate flooring now scuffed and yellowing, the wobbly stone doorstop, the curled Calvin and Hobbes calendar on the back of the door. But so much had been changed, stripped, and repurposed that the place was barely recognizable. It was like looking at the bones of an old friend.

  While Levi made tea and coffee, Cara opened a packet of chocolate cookies and, when Brian declined her offer, she selected two for herself and munched away as Brian brought them up to date.

  “Our best guess is that the road across the isthmus will be passable some time tomorrow. You’ve got a crowd of folks waiting to get over here, including one very demanding Ms. Selena Simms. She even asked to come over in the launch with me tonight. I told her it was too dangerous.” Brian leaned forward. “To be frank, Belle would have my guts for garters if she found me in the middle of Ocean Ridge Bay with a beautiful movie star. Besides, with those spidery eyelashes and nails like daggers, she scares me a bit.”

  Levi chuckled. “She can be a wild one, all right.”

  His tone was so indulgent, so familiar, that Cara felt an unpleasant emotional prickle. She snagged another cookie and ate it fast. “How’s it all going with Belle, Brian?” she asked around a mouthful of crushed biscuit, hoping to get off the subject of the supposedly wild Selena Simms.

  “It’s touch-and-go. Fingers crossed it will work itself out. Ever since she started working, she’s been different, you know? It was okay while she was at art school. That was a couple of nights a week and it seemed to make her happy. But once she started selling the pieces she makes, she’s been…I dunno… Far away?”

  “She makes art?” Cara asked.

  “Jewelery. Beautiful rings and necklaces with diamonds and rubies and lapis laz-something.”

  “Lapis lazuli?” Levi offered.

  “Yeah, that. She’s making decent money. She’s even been invited to speak at a couple of important conferences. To be honest, though I try, I don’t really know how to talk to her anymore. Used to be we could just yack about the football or what was going on at the station. Now I feel like I have to know about carats and hardness and settings… I just can’t get my head around it all. Maybe she’s better off without me.”

  “Oh, I’m sure that’s not true!” Cara argued.

  “Well, I did show her a couple of them Aphrodite movies you mentioned. Ppppssssshhhh! Are they hot or what? She gobbled them up like caramel macaroons. And I can’t say I found ‘em hard on the eyes either. They really set the mood, if you know what I mean. She might even agree to another movie night date next weekend.”

  “That’s great news, buddy,” Levi said, clapping the police officer on the shoulder. “Any news on Cara’s ride?”

  Surely one more biscuit couldn’t hurt, Cara thought. She was ravenous. Levi chuckled as she shook another pair of cookies from the packet and began to gnaw on them.

  “There have been a couple of unconfirmed sightings, but nothing we can get a bead on. I’m sorry, Cara.”

  She felt a momentary rush of sadness, closely followed by a twinge of guilt. Truth be told, she had only given the bike a passing thought in the last few days. She had been too wrapped up in arguing and—er…other things—with Levi.

  “Finding the bike is a long shot, Brian. Don’t beat yourself up,” she said.

  “Anyway, I just wanted to come over and make sure you folks were okay. I’d best head back to the mainland. Oh! And one more thing,
” Brian said. “Your sister sent this over.”

  The officer handed Cara a green envelope. This missive offered no frissons of warning.

  “Thanks, Brian.”

  “I’ll see you out,” said Levi, steering the officer out of the room. “Oh, and Cara? Go easy on the cookies, huh? You’ll spoil your dinner.”

  How did he know she was reaching for another cookie? The damn man had eyes in the back of his head. But he was right, she was starting to feel a little ill from the sudden influx of sugar.

  Pushing the packet half-heartedly away, she turned her attention to the envelope, prising the flap open and pulling out the card inside. It was a hand drawn card, an invitation, she realized. Not from Mia, per se, but from Freya. “Dear Auntie Cara, you are invited to attend my 12th birthday party…”

  Cara’s initial reaction was delight, closely followed by concern. Brian had said the message had come from her sister, but did Mia know about the birthday invitation? Or had Freya invited Cara to their home behind her mother’s back? Maybe, given recent events, Cara would be unwanted, turned away at the door. She certainly didn’t want to cause a scene on the little girl’s special day. Then again, she didn’t want to break Freya’s heart by being a no-show.

  Even if she could ease her way into the party, once Mia found out about Alessandra’s lover and the sex scenes likely to be woven through the screenplay, Cara figured she would be about as welcome as dog poo.

  Speaking of Alessandra’s lover, Cara supposed she should confess her findings to the film’s sexy producer, so they could put their differences behind them and… And then what? She really had no idea. So, she did what any self-respecting woman would do under the circumstances and reached for another cookie.

  ****

  “Dinner” turned out to be a naughty round of loving Levi in the back kitchen that left her breathless and a little bumped and bruised. By midnight, he was strutting round like a buck-naked peacock, juggling tomatoes and eggs, expertly ninja-spinning a butter knife, singing silly songs about brushing your teeth all night and a rabbit called Foo Foo, and generally playing the fool as he threw some sustenance together for them.

  With a full belly and an excess of laughter, Cara looked sleepy and content. When Levi suggested they retire to the bedroom, she grumbled.

  “Don’t tell me I’ve worn you out, Cara? Can’t hack the pace?”

  “I neeeed sleeeeep…” she protested as he waggled his eyebrows and ogled her.

  “My poor baby,” he mocked, but reached for her hand and led her toward the room they had left earlier to answer the door. Faerie glades and harems were all very well in their ways, but there was something about curling up with Cara with all the glitter and fantasy stripped away that felt right.

  He pulled her down and wrapped them both in the lemony bedding, drawing her close into his embrace.

  “As it happens, I need sleep, too,” he assured her. “Need to recharge for the next round.”

  She groaned again and snuggled up against him, burrowing against his shoulder.

  “We really need to talk,” she murmured as her breathing slowed. “I found something…”

  “Yes,” he replied sleepily. “I had an idea that might help. We’ll talk in the morning, huh?”

  “Okay. That would be great.”

  But he barely heard her words and she didn’t notice because, within seconds, curled together, they fell asleep.

  ****

  Cara awoke to glaring sunlight, loud voices, roaring vehicles, and screaming power tools. The road was clear, she thought as she reached for Levi and found the bed empty. She had a feeling his absence didn’t bode well. Groggily, she made her way to the en suite shower.

  Once she was dressed, she followed the scent of bacon and coffee to the back kitchen. The small room was jammed with people jostling for position around the stove, fridge, sink, and bench tops. Through the back door, propped open with an old rock, she noticed a trestle table had been set up with an urn and crockery. She recognized the mint linen tablecloth as one of her mother’s. A stout, gray-haired woman carried loaves of bread and trays of food outside where people could help themselves. It seemed that no sooner had a platter been placed on the table than a flock of workers descended on it like seagulls and cleared it.

  Nobody noticed Cara as she squeezed through the congested kitchen, and nobody protested when she helped herself to a cup of tea and a sampling from the latest tray of food. Laborers paused to wish her a good morning as she stood by the table munching on an egg and bacon muffin. Eating in the sunshine felt decadent after the last few days cooped up inside, though she couldn’t sit down as every log, rock, wall, and bench was still soaked from the rain.

  Once she’d finished her breakfast, she circled the house in search of Levi. She heard him before she saw him, his voice coiling around the side of the house from the veranda. At first, she grinned, happy to hear him, but something in his tone made her pause and listen.

  “…so, I figure Alessanda’s fortune ought to be somewhere on the property,” she heard him say.

  Ice spiked through her heart. Why was he talking about her mother’s legacy? Hadn’t the two of them agreed it was likely nowhere to be found? And with whom was he discussing the missing millions?

  Her mental question was answered almost immediately in the form of a breathy trademark laugh that had become famous over the last few years thanks to its big screen exposure.

  “And if It’s on the property, Levi, darling, it’s yours to do with what you will,” Selena Simms replied. “Give me another hug, gorgeous man. Your cleverness is surpassed only by your devastatingly good looks.”

  The laugh came again and, when Levi voiced his answering mirth, Cara thought she might puke up her breakfast.

  How dare he act as though Alessandra’s fortune was somehow his for the taking? Of course, technically, he had bought the house and its contents, so legally he would be entitled to it if he found it. But surely the days and nights they had recently shared counted for something. She had opened up her heart and told him her secrets—well, some of them anyway. She had poured out how abandoned she felt by her mother. She thought he would have taken her feelings into account when it came to the missing fortune. Certainly, he must realize that discovering the money actually did exist, that her late mother had actually left her the promised legacy with which to carry on, would mean the world to Cara.

  The inheritance was a symbol of her mother’s love for her in the same way that the secret letter was a symbol of how little she knew about Alessandra.

  And maybe, just maybe, if they managed to make the film and it really was close to the truth—lover and all—she really might be afforded some crucial insight about her mother when she watched it. Though, given this ugly new view into Levi’s avarice, she didn’t think there’d be a whole lot of holding hands in the dark theatre.

  Perhaps, though, he thought Cara simply knowing about the money would be enough. Perhaps he figured she could feel reassured by the knowledge that her mother had provided for her, while he rubbed his hands together and spent the fortune as he saw fit. After all, he had been upfront about needing money. Maybe she had been naïve not to realize he was after her birthright. Telling her he was money-hungry was a pretty big clue, and she had let it slide on by as though it was a trifle. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

  Levi had convinced Cara that his need for money was somehow honorable, that, when it came to the film, they could find a balance between box office smash and artistic veracity, that they could make ends meet while keeping the truth intact. But clearly, his motivation was baser than that. Being in the dark about the revelation in the letter about Alessandra’s lover, he obviously felt he wasn’t making any progress on the film front, so he’d apparently decided to circumvent it altogether. He wanted money any way he could get it, even if it meant stealing her inheritance.

  Selena’s voice interrupted Cara’s thinking.

  “I’ve missed you dreadfully, Levi, dar
ling. Let’s have that working lunch you mentioned and then spend the afternoon”—her voice dropped suggestively—“getting reacquainted. I’ll make you sweat.”

  The montage crossing Cara’s mind was all trailing talons, eyelash veils, and moistened lips. Cara wished she had a large trout to slap the vulgar vixen round the head with. “Reacquainted” could only mean one thing, especially in that tone of voice, and Cara bristled at the thought of Levi “reacquainting” himself with the bombshell movie star. But what had she expected? Who was she to compete with the internationally revered actress?

  Even though her mind instantly acknowledged that she had never stood a chance with Levi, especially with a film star in the running for his affections, the reality stung like nasty black barbs digging into her heart and shredding flesh and feelings alike.

  As she heard a set of high heels strolling away, Cara forced herself to suck in a breath and straighten her shoulders. She blinked to make sure there were no stray tears set to fall and swallowed to loosen her tightly closed throat. She lifted her chin and rounded the corner of the house to confront Levi.

  His grin, when he saw her, lit up his whole face. Scoundrel, she thought, and instantly revised her approach. He was devastating in his magnificence, a scintillating rogue who could make her common sense vaporize with a mere smile. Imagine if he actually put his mind to disarming her. She would be a senseless puddle in his wake. Perhaps a full-frontal attack was ill-considered when facing a dazzling devil like Levi.

  Stealth was what she needed. Stealth, reconnaissance, and subterfuge. She would beat him at his own sneaky game. She would pretend all was well between them until she knew exactly what his plans were when it came to the fortune. Then, if he really found it and he really claimed it, she could challenge him about his right to the money and demand that he hand it over to the rightful heirs—namely, her and Mia.

  Even as the plan of action formed itself in her mind, she felt a twinge of discomfort, as though some part of her knew that she was being rash and reactive.