Vaguely, she became aware of Josh grabbing his trousers from the floor, extracting a square packet, before ripping it open and sheathing himself. Then he was back between her legs, his hair tickling her inner thighs as he bent to intimately kiss her. Soft at first, then stronger, punctuated by sweeps of his tongue swirling over the hypersensitive bundle of nerve endings at her core. When he closed his mouth around her protruding bud, and suckled, she swept over the edge of reason and into a wild conflagration—spiralling over and over as paroxysms of pleasure shook her body.
She’d barely begun to regain her senses when she felt the hard nub of his erection at her entrance. She opened for him, welcoming him into her body—into her very soul.
Aftershocks of satisfaction from her orgasm soon built into something stronger as he stroked his length in and out, grinding against her, watching her face as she changed from sated satisfaction to hunger all over again.
This time he built her up more quickly than before. The direct pressure of his body, his long deep strokes, culminating in waves of spreading fulfilment that swelled through her again and again. Every muscle in her body tightened, and she held him to her, pulling him deeper, until she lost complete track of where she ended and he began. And then, when she knew she could hold back the tide no longer, she felt the power surge through him as he climaxed. A raw growl of completion ripped from his throat as he pumped against her over and over, sending her into the true oblivion of sybaritic bliss.
Callie stirred, noting immediately the tightening of Josh’s arms around her as they lay sprawled together in abandon across the bed. The sun was lower now, and she could see streaks of purple and rich apricot across the sky through the window.
She lifted one hand to his abdomen and began to stroke, in long languid sweeps, with the tips of her fingers. Beneath her touch she felt goose bumps rise over his skin. She lowered her hand, tracing tiny patterns through the coarse hair at his groin until she reached the smooth length of him. She wrapped her fingers around him, sliding them gently up and down his shaft, squeezing ever so slightly more firmly as she reached his tip before beginning the same journey again.
Josh’s eyelids opened to half mast as she stroked him, the cerulean glitter his only betrayal of control. Callie slid down his body and drew up onto her knees.
She bent down and traced his tip with her tongue before opening her mouth to take him fully while keeping up the momentum of her hand on his shaft. Beneath her she felt the muscles in his thighs clench and she took him deeper, increasing her rhythm, relentlessly alternating pressure with her mouth, her tongue.
When he came it was with giant shudders that wracked his body and shook the bed, in total contrast to the taut control he’d held over his body as she’d ministered to him. And, as the last waves of pleasure washed over him, Callie knew a completion she’d never known before. She’d brought him to this. She’d given him the ultimate satisfaction.
Josh pulled her into his arms, aligning her body over his, his hands stroking lazy circles across her back as she nuzzled against his chest.
“I suppose we should put the chef out of his misery and have dinner,” he eventually said.
Callie’s stomach growled in response, eliciting a hearty chuckle from Josh.
“That settles it.”
He reached a lazy arm out and lifted a phone from the bedside cabinet. His instructions were brief and to the point. They’d serve themselves in the salon on the main deck and they didn’t want to be disturbed.
Callie rose from the bed and stretched before reaching for her clothes. Josh came up behind her, his hands arresting her actions.
“Don’t bother with those. There are robes in the en suite. I like the idea of sitting opposite you, knowing you’re not wearing anything else.”
“I wasn’t wearing much else before,” Callie commented but walked through to the bathroom.
“I know,” Josh’s voice followed her. “It drove me nuts.”
“And this won’t?” she answered, stepping back through to the bedroom and tying the sash on a rich emerald satin robe.
The fabric slithered over her skin, its touch triggering tiny ripples of sensation that brought an immediate response and saw her nipples peak in clearly defined outlines. Josh’s eyes riveted on them. Unbelievably, she felt them tighten even more.
“Oh, yeah, it’ll drive me nuts.”
Callie handed him the large black towelling robe she’d chosen for him. “You’d better put this on then. We can torment each other.”
She shoved her hands deep into her pockets as Josh pulled on his robe.
“Shall we?” he said, reaching for her hand.
It felt like the most natural thing in the world to have her hand in his. His fingers laced with hers and the warmth of his palm scorched against her skin, fusing them together.
In the main salon an intimate table for two had been set, a fresh bottle of champagne languished in an ice bucket to one side and the subdued lighting was enhanced by a myriad of squat candles scattered about.
By the time they’d dined on smoked salmon filo parcels, drizzled with a sweet chilli sauce, and a medley of seasonal roasted vegetables, Callie was on tenterhooks. The enticing glimpses she caught of Josh’s bare chest as he leaned forward at the table distracted her from the flavoursome meal before them, and she was all too aware of the tension building up deep inside.
Tension that saw her shift every so often on her seat to alleviate the insistent throb at the juncture of her thighs. Tension that made her all too aware of the movement of the muscles in Josh’s throat as he swallowed. Of the play of veins on his hands as he deftly sectioned his filo parcel and brought each bite to his mouth. He was as methodical in this as he was in everything else he did.
But she knew now exactly what it took to make him lose that fabled control and as the sash on her robe began to slide loose, she made no attempt to halt the gape of fabric.
Dessert was soon forgotten as by mutual assent they rose from the table. The distance between the main deck and their room passed in a blur of motion as their appetites for one another coalesced into a melding of bodies, sensation and gratification.
They were ensconced in the private confines of the back of a limousine, fingers still entwined. It was as if, having had a taste of one another, neither could bear to break the link between them. It was past midnight and while she was physically exhausted, Callie had never felt more mentally energised before.
They’d ended their harbour cruise standing by the aft railing on the main deck, Josh’s arms wrapped around her from behind, her body fully supported by his strength. There was a bitter sweetness to the knowledge that the evening was drawing to a close, but even perfection had its boundaries. Their return to reality was as reluctant as it was necessary.
As Josh had said, a car was waiting for them at the Westhaven Marina as the boat drew in. Now that car was headed to Callie’s town house.
“Stay with me this weekend.”
The rumble of Josh’s voice in the gloom of the car interior surprised her.
“You want me to stay at your place?”
Her heart leaped at the opportunity, but her head urged caution.
“You don’t want to?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Good, it’s settled then. You can leave your car at work on Friday and we’ll drive home together.”
“Won’t people notice?”
“Does that bother you?” Josh lifted her hand to his lips and drew her forefinger into his mouth. “I want more than just mind-blowing sex from you, Callie.”
She gasped as his lips closed around the tip and the wet warmth of his tongue stroked against her skin.
“Wouldn’t you like to explore this further?” he coaxed.
“Y-yes.”
A shudder ran through her. She wouldn’t have believed it possible, but she wanted him again. She’d thought her body was too tired, too sated, to want more. She’d been wrong. But hard on t
he heels of the desire that threatened to swamp her consciousness was the reminder that, all pleasure aside, she was supposed to be exploring him. Josh Tremont, the man.
“Yes,” she replied again, this time more firmly. “I would.”
“Excellent. You won’t regret it.”
But as the limousine pulled up outside her home and Josh walked her to her front door, Callie experienced a deep sense of foreboding that she most definitely would.
Eight
T he next two days dragged on interminably, as Josh closeted himself in his office with intercultural advisors and the heads of his legal department. Even though only metres separated them by day, Callie felt as if they were suddenly worlds apart. If it hadn’t been for the brief moments when their eyes met or their hands brushed as she handed him a file, she would have begun to wonder if she hadn’t imagined their idyllic night together on the water.
Every time she looked out the wide expanse of his office window toward the harbour, she was reminded of what they’d shared and it made her want more. So very much more. And that was very dangerous indeed, because despite how hard she was falling for him, she had to remember her promise to Irene. She had to remember that Josh threatened the Palmers with every business move he made and somehow she had to find out why, and how to stop him.
She’d let Irene know that she would be spending the weekend with Josh and her mentor had expressed her approval.
“Make sure you find out whatever you can,” she’d insisted. “Leave no stone unturned.”
Finally, it was five o’clock on Friday afternoon and Callie was finalising her backup process when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and a deep sense of awareness permeated her body.
“I thought this week would never end.”
Josh’s lips were close to her ear and she shivered as he bent his head to kiss her softly against the pulse that now fluttered erratically in her neck. He swivelled her chair around and drew her to her feet, pulling her against him and slanting his lips across hers like a man who’d been denied human contact for far too long.
Callie gave herself over to his embrace. She knew all too well how he felt.
“Let’s go,” he murmured against her lips. “Or I might not make it home.”
Every muscle in her body clenched on the surge of arousal that swept through her. If he asked, she’d let him have her on her desk, the floor, anywhere as long as he’d assuage the clamouring need inside. It was probably just as well that he’d kept his distance these past two days or she’d have been a quivering wreck and rendered incapable of doing her job.
“My things are in the back of my car,” she replied.
They travelled together in the elevator to the underground car park, stopping only for a few minutes for her to retrieve her bag before they were in the Maserati and driving along Tamaki Drive toward St Heliers.
Traffic along the waterfront was heavy and by the time Josh hit the automatic gate and garage door openers he was in a fever pitch to get Callie upstairs and into the master suite. If it hadn’t been for the matter of protection, he would have eschewed the master suite in favour of any flat surface. He made a mental note to ensure that didn’t become a problem in the near future.
He grabbed up her bag and took her hand and, after disarming the internal alarm system, led her up the main staircase and straight to his bedroom.
He almost hated the insatiable hunger that infused him when she was around. Hated it yet welcomed it with every breath in his body. Their physical union was an unexpected, yet very welcome, addition to their working relationship and Josh had no doubt it would take some considerable time to burn out.
Callie reached for him the second he slammed the bedroom door behind them—shoving his jacket off his shoulders and wrenching his shirttails from the waistband of his trousers. He loosened his tie and ripped it from beneath his collar even as she undid the buttons that ran down the front of his shirt. Then her hands were on his chest. He let out a groan as she scratched her nails lightly across the flat disks of his nipples.
She quickly replaced her nails with her lips, her teeth gently rasping over his tender skin while her hands slid down his abdomen and to his waistband. He felt his trousers slip down his legs, felt her hand reach deftly inside his briefs and then, gloriously, felt her free his erection—her fingers wrapping instinctively around him with just the right pressure.
Josh reached beneath her dress. Rucking the fabric up over her thighs, her hips, until he could tug at the scrap of nonsense she called underwear. His fingers slipped between her legs and he groaned again as he felt her wetness. He rubbed her sensitive flesh and caught her answering plea with his lips as she pressed herself harder against his fingers.
He walked her backwards until he felt her knees buckle against the side of the king-sized sleigh bed that dominated his room. She fell gently backwards onto the bed and Josh reached for the top drawer of his bedside cabinet, grabbing the box of condoms and scattering its contents onto the bed bedside them.
Callie’s throaty laugh as she saw what he was doing caused him to smile in response, but then he was all seriousness as, sheathed, he positioned himself at her entrance. Dammit, but he’d planned to take it slow with her this weekend. Make every second, every stroke, count. But the fever that raged through his veins demanded to be assuaged right here, right now.
He plunged inside her welcoming heat and felt her inner muscles contract around him in a velvet fist. He nearly lost it right there, but somehow he found the strength to withdraw and drive home again, and again, until her scream of completion rent the air between them and he could finally let go with everything he had.
Wave after wave swamped him and he collapsed against Callie, his chest heaving, his heart thumping as if he’d completed a marathon. She sucked everything out of him in a way no woman had ever done before. When he was capable, he rolled onto his side and lay there next to her on the bed. Eventually, he propped himself up on an elbow.
“Are you okay?” he asked, smoothing a lock of hair from her face as she lay staring up at the ceiling, her legs still splayed, her dress still around her waist.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more okay in my life,” she answered, turning her head to look at him. “How can it keep getting better?”
Josh smiled, a swell of pride rolling through him. “We have this weekend to find out. C’mon, we’ll grab a quick shower then let’s see about dinner.”
He sat up and removed his shoes and socks, grinning ruefully at his total disarray as the incongruity of their appearance struck home. He kicked away his trousers and shrugged off his shirt before reaching for Callie and helping her to remove her dress and bra. He led her through to the cream-and-gold marble master bathroom and turned on the faucets in the massive double shower.
Slowly and tenderly he bathed her, taking extra care between her legs, trailing his soapy hands over her breasts and relishing their fullness before he rinsed her and pushed her gently from the shower stall.
“If you don’t go now I won’t be responsible for my actions,” he explained.
Through the steamy enclosure he watched as she leisurely dried herself and walked naked back into the bedroom. Josh turned the faucets to full cold, standing beneath the needle-sharp spray until he knew he’d be able to follow her without throwing her back on the bed for round two.
Restraint, control. They’d been his touchstones for as long as he could remember, yet Callie Rose Lee had effectively rendered him useless in that regard. Somehow that didn’t bother him as much as it should. He’d always sworn he’d never settle down until he’d avenged his mother’s sorrow and made his father pay for his abandonment, but with Callie he almost began to wonder if his plan didn’t need some revision. Whether there wasn’t room for both in his life. It was certainly something worth exploring, he decided.
Saturday morning the weather turned to rain and as Josh had excused himself after breakfast to attend to an urgent call from one of his
business contacts in Europe, Callie found herself with time on her hands and very little to do.
She wandered through the downstairs living room that led out to the pool area where they’d dined together only a week ago. She shook her head slightly. A week. It felt like so much longer.
Her body appeared to be in total agreement. Already she missed Josh’s proximity with a physical ache—or maybe that ache had more to do with the way her body had been thoroughly, deliciously, used through the dark hours. A smile pulled at her lips.
She’d loved every second of last night. After they’d both dressed, they’d gone to the kitchen where they’d cooked a meal together, taking their plates out onto the tiled terrace where they sat on the descending stairs overlooking the pool. With their dinner balanced on their laps and a glass of red wine each, they’d eaten in companionable silence before heading back indoors.
They’d started to watch a movie in Josh’s home theatre but it hadn’t taken long before the gentle stroke of his fingers across the back of her hand had ignited desire once more. They hadn’t even made it out of the room before their clothing had hit the carpet. Callie had to admit to a distinct soft spot for the wide and comfortable armchairs that had allowed for some inventive foreplay before Josh had pulled her to the floor where she’d straddled his body, taking him deep inside, and riding him to an incendiary climax.
Even now, the memory pulled at something deep inside her. Something she’d never allowed herself to feel before. Something that felt scarily like the beginnings of love.
Don’t be crazy, she told herself sternly. You’re not supposed to fall for the guy. You’re supposed to be gathering information—and what had she discovered? Nothing other than the fact that he worked hard and expected the same in return from his people. That and the fact that the man made love like a dream. His hands, his mouth, he used everything in his arsenal to bring her pleasure such as she’d never known—and it was addictive. He was addictive.
Men like Josh Tremont should definitely come with a warning firmly plastered on their foreheads, she decided.
Defiant Mistress, Ruthless Millionaire Page 8