by Andrews, Amy
Callie’s head spun, her pulse hammering as she was sucked into the wild tumult of their desire. As her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt his hands were at her waist, pulling at her button and zip, pushing at her trousers and knickers, pushing them down, pushing them off.
She tore her mouth from his as his smooth chest was finally bared to her hands, pressing kisses down his throat, across his pecs, against a flat male nipple. Her hands roved over the tautness of his belly and grabbed at his belt, unhooking it with fingers that shook in her eagerness to touch the thick erection pressing against her.
He groaned when she finally freed him and Callie smiled triumphantly as she palmed the length of him.
So hard.
Like a rod of steel packaged in the finest silk.
When her hand crept lower and cupped his balls he growled, ‘Callie,’ before claiming her mouth again, bending her head back, one hand buried in her hair, the other unclipping her bra.
The rasp of his breath was in her ears and the smell of his hair and his skin was in his nostrils and he tasted like beer and lime and she couldn’t think of anything else other than taking him inside her, making him groan her name and hold her close.
Callie let go of him to shrug out of her bra and then she reached for him again and he was walking her backwards, their mouths fusing as he fumbled in his back pocket for his wallet. Kicking out of his trousers, he ditched his shirt then he pushed her down on the bed, following her, landing on the mattress his mouth at one breast, his fingers at the other.
Callie gasped for breath, gasped for mercy, gasped for more. ‘Sebastian, please,’ she cried. ‘I need you in—’
He cut her off with a kiss that had her whimpering, clinging to his shoulders. ‘I’d forgotten how great you tasted,’ he murmured, nuzzling her neck, his hand stroking over her hip.
‘I want to taste you all over.’
He moved lower, his tongue trekking to her breast, his hand straying to her inner thighs, his knuckles brushing ever-so- lightly against the place she tingled and burned for him most.
‘And then I want to start again,’ he said against her puckered nipple, before sucking it into his mouth and stroking a finger between her legs.
Callie almost arched off the bed as she cried his name. But the gentle teasing of his finger was stoking a fierce need. She pulled at his head, her nipple impossibly peaked, engorged from his attention and sensitive to the sudden rush of cool air.
‘Later. If you’re not inside me in the next five seconds I think I’m going to die.’
He chuckled and kissed his way back up to her. ‘Well, we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?’
Reaching for his wallet which he’d thrown on the bed as they’d fallen to the mattress, he opened it, a loud zipping noise joining the harsh suck of their breathing.
‘Hurry,’ she urged.
He pulled the foil packet out and brandished it a little. ‘Patience, Callie, patience.’
She glared at him as she reached down, grasped his erection and squeezed. His groan was deeply satisfying but not as satisfying as the haste with which he ripped open the condom.
He was sheathed in a matter of seconds.
And then he was lifting her leg, propping it on his shoulder, leaning over her on his elbows and pushing in deep. So deep she almost screamed it was that good.
‘Oh, God, yes,’ she panted, as he pulled out and pushed back in again.
‘Callie!’
‘More,’ she gasped. ‘More.’
And he gave her more and more and more until she was moaning and yelling and scratching at his back as she came, and when he joined her, shuddering and jerking, his fingers branding her hips, she wrapped her legs around him, gathering him closer and came again.
‘What say you and I keep this thing going?’
Callie raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool as Sebastian threw his linen serviette on the business class tray in front of him. They hadn’t talked about what happened next while they’d been getting busy in her hotel room. They hadn’t really had time.
Was it a thing?
They hadn’t gone to the dinner and he’d stayed all night in her bed. In the morning they’d had room service for two after which he’d persuaded her that a naked day with him was much more preferable to anything the conference programme had to offer.
In fact, so thorough was he in his persuasion that they’d nearly missed their flight. After a mad dash to the airport they’d just managed to get to the gate before boarding closed.
‘We have a thing?’
He shrugged. ‘We’d still be in your bed at the hotel if it wasn’t for this flight. We played hooky from the entire last day of the conference. And I don’t know about you but I’m not done yet.’
Callie was torn. She wanted to — God knew, she wanted to. But it warred with all the reasons why she shouldn’t.
‘Even now all I can think about is touching you.’ He lifted the armrest between them out of the way and brought her hand to his mouth. ‘Kissing you,’ he murmured, his lips against her skin as he dropped a kiss on her knuckles.
The shiver travelled all the way to her core and she pulled her hand away. The denim of his jeans pulled tautly across his thighs and crotch, and even though a tray hid most of his lap she could see the thickening beneath his zipper.
He was as turned on as she was. But...
‘I’m not in the market for a relationship. I like my life the way it is now.’ She kept her voice low. ‘I can do what I like when I like and not have to consult someone else or put someone else’s needs first.’
As much as she missed her nephew and would have him back in a heartbeat, her life had certainly been a whole lot less complicated without him around twenty-four seven.
‘Who said anything about a relationship?’ he asked, moving in to nuzzle her neck now the armrest barrier had been removed. ‘The way I see it, this thing is so intense it’s bound to fizzle out as quickly as it started.’
He caught her hand again and brought it to his chest as he dropped light kisses down her neck. ‘Look at it as pure sexual attraction.’
Moving her hand lower, Callie felt his abdominals contract. ‘Something that needs to be acted on.’
He settled her hand beneath the tray resting on his erection. ‘Exorcised,’ he muttered. ‘We’re adults, Callie. We’re allowed to act on our urges.’
Callie was sure everyone on the plane could hear her breathing. Involuntarily she opened her hand over him further, feeling the contours of the thick ridge beneath her hand, and without a second thought she squeezed. Sebastian groaned low and deep in her ear and her nipples beaded.
‘Do it again,’ he whispered.
Callie swayed closer to him, his voice hypnotic, a swell of desire blooming in her chest and suffusing heat southwards. But still she glanced around. Could anyone see what was happening beneath that tray?
She crossed her legs, giving them further privacy. Yes, Sebastian had the window seat and the tray was in the way and they were in business class where things were more private, but she didn’t want to be caught out like a horny teenager.
‘Callie...’
The guttural groan in her ear was full of ache and want and she ran her hand up and down the length of him this time. His breath hissed in her ear and she shut her eyes. ‘This is mad,’ she muttered, her head spinning.
‘This can work, Callie.’ He thrust against her palm a little as he slid her hand to her leg. ‘If we want it.’
Callie flattened her palm against him, pressing down hard as his mouth continued to create havoc and his hand stroked her thigh. ‘I can’t concentrate when you do that,’ she whispered.
She felt his lips curl against the angle of her jaw. ‘Come on, Callie. You know you want to.’
‘You’re not playing fair.’
He chuckled. ‘No. I’m not. I’m playing to win.’
Intractable as ever, giving no quarter, just as he’d been on t
he bridge that day. All magnificent male, dominant and authoritative and sexy as hell.
I’m right and we’re doing it my way.
Thankfully the captain’s voice came over the intercom, announcing some mild turbulence which yanked Callie out of the sexual trance. She let go of Sebastian, sat up straight and looked ahead, her cheeks pinking up at her behaviour.
‘Callie?’
‘Shh,’ she said, shutting her eyes. She’d never been more grateful for turbulence in her life. ‘Don’t talk. Just don’t talk.’ She rolled her head to look at him. ‘I need to think.’
And think she did. A lot.
Would having a fling with Sebastian be that bad? She’d had a couple of short-term flings before and had come away unscathed. She’d burnt off some sexual energy just as Sebastian was suggesting and they’d been light and fun and she’d enjoyed them while they’d lasted.
And she was free now to do it again. So why not? Because, a little voice said.
Because.
When the plane landed she still wasn’t any closer to a decision. But as they were walking out the terminal doors towards the car park the sunset was a palette of oranges bleeding into reds.
He held out his hand. ‘Come back to mine?’
Callie hesitated. She looked at his hand then at his face. ‘We always go home to sleep in our own beds.’
He nodded. ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way.’
Drawing in an unsteady breath and with her pulse fluttering madly at her temples, she took his hand.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Two months later Callie waved at Ginny as she pulled out from the kerb. Her seven-month-pregnant belly was on proud display in the form-fitting dress and she looked better every time Callie saw her — blooming, in fact. She was doing so well with her reduced medication and looking forward to the arrival of their baby girl.
Ginny had joked that Callie had better get a move on or she’d be too old, and Callie had laughed. But even standing there, with Ginny’s belly round and firm in front of her, Callie had felt nothing.
Sure, she’d felt happy for Ginny and Brad but, apart from that weird moment during the twelve week ultrasound, there had been no crashing urge to join the club. No desire to have her own belly full with child. Zack had been her one chance at experiencing motherhood, albeit it second-hand, and she was perfectly okay with that.
She must have been hiding behind a door when maternal instincts had been given out.
Still, despite this apparent flaw, Callie was deep-down-in-her-bones happy. The sun was shining, it was Friday afternoon, her patients were well.
What more could she ask for?
She certainly couldn’t ask any more of Sebastian. Things were working out better than she had ever imagined. Somehow she and Sebastian seemed to have the work/personal balance right. She’d fretted that things would be awkward at work, that their colleagues would treat them differently if/when they found out, or would disapprove of such a potentially disastrous match.
A few years back two of Jambalyn’s staff had been involved in a tempestuous relationship that had come to a messy end and they’d all spent months walking on eggshells around the office.
But everyone had been blasé about it and Geraldine had announced, ‘Thank the Lord for that,’ when they were sprung one afternoon after work in Sebastian’s office, stealing a kiss.
Callie had also fretted that seeing so much of each other – during and after work - would be a recipe for disaster.
But she’d been wrong.
Maybe the fact that they always went home to their own beds to sleep, that they weren’t spending twenty-four seven with each other, had been the key.
Sebastian had been right, it seemed. They were perfect for each other. They were both in it for the same reasons - to have fun and enjoy each other without the expectations of a formal relationship. Neither of them wanted marriage or kids so the pressure wasn’t on to make anything more of it than it was.
Which was sex.
Lots and lots and lots of truly amazing, fabulous sex that just kept getting better and better. It certainly hadn’t fizzled out, as Sebastian had suggested on the plane. If anything, their appetite for each other seemed to be increasing.
Burning out of control, actually.
Callie was going to miss it when Sebastian went back to Melbourne. She was going to miss it a lot. Along with the other things. Like the laughter. And the dining out. The movies. The Sunday drives after sprawling out on her deck, eating pastries for brunch and bingeing stuff on Netflix.
She smiled, she’d really loved Netflix and chill...
She was still smiling a minute later when her phone rang and she pushed the button so she could talk hands free.
‘Callie?’
Callie’s smile broadened at the voice that was as familiar to her now as her own. ‘I was just thinking about you.’
‘That’s nice.’
It was an innocuous enough reply but Sebastian sounded tense and her smile slipped. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’ve just taken a call from Frank Jessop’s wife. He’s agitated and she’s concerned.’
Frank was a Vietnam vet who suffered from PTSD marked by severe flashbacks. ‘You want me to divert there?’
‘Please. I’m on my way but you’re closer and with this afternoon traffic I could be half an hour.’
She nodded. ‘That’s fine. I’m only a few minutes away. See you when you get there.’
‘Callie...’
She’d been about to hang up but the strained note in his voice stopped her.
‘Just be there, for June, okay? If you think he’s close to the edge, leave the house with her and ring for an ambulance... Don’t engage him, okay?’
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she knew what she was doing but Callie could hear tension in his voice and guessed that this had to be hard for him. That he’d probably faced this situation not only professionally but personally.
‘Of course,’ she murmured reassuringly then ended the call.
When Callie arrived at the Jessop’s she was greeted by Frank’s wife as if she was a floatation device and June was drowning. A small bird of a woman in her seventies, she looked frantic and had obviously been crying.
‘Are you okay?’ Callie asked, surreptitiously running her gaze all over June to check she hadn’t been harmed. ‘Has he hurt you?’
‘No, no, no,’ June dismissed. ‘He hasn’t...he never would. I just...’ She pressed her hand to her mouth. ‘I haven’t seen him like this in a long time.’
Callie reached for June’s hands and smiled. ‘It’s okay now. I’m here and Sebastian’s on his way.’
‘Thank you,’ June whispered. ‘Thank you.’
Callie smiled again and squeezed the woman’s hand. ‘I might just pop in and check on him, okay?’
June nodded. ‘Would you, please? I’m so worried.’
Callie’s heart went out to June. Her love for her husband, even in his disturbed state, was inspirational. ‘Of course.’
Callie followed June into the front lounge room. Frank was sitting on one of the chairs, the leather cracked and worn, staring at the floor. He was rocking slightly and muttering to himself.
An image of Andy rose in her mind and she quashed it.
‘Hello, Frank. Do you remember me?’ Callie approached slowly and stopped a few feet away. ‘Callie Douglas? One of the nurses from Jambalyn.’
Frank looked up at her, still rocking. He frowned and it was as if he was looking straight through her before he returned his gaze to the floor.
‘Okay. Well, I’m going to have a cup of tea with June while we wait for Sebastian. Can I get you one?’
Frank curled his lip at her. ‘No tea,’ he barked. ‘No shrink.’
Callie nodded. ‘Okay. I’ll just be out in the kitchen with June.’
June burst into tears when Callie reached the kitchen and she put her arm around the older woman, ushering her to the table. She busie
d herself making tea while keeping one ear on the occasional mutterings from the lounge.
She kept up a constant stream of inane chatter. She should have been trying to establish the events that had led to this breakdown but June seemed too raw and Callie knew she’d have to go over it enough times today as it was.
Sebastian arrived within twenty minutes and she greeted him at the door. He looked tall and capable and commanding coming up the path and her heart skipped a beat or two. She filled him in on her appraisal of Frank and the situation as they walked to the kitchen.
He sat down next to June and put his arm around her shoulders, murmuring to her in a low voice, asking the questions Callie hadn’t and telling her everything was going to be okay then he stood.
‘I’ll go and say hi,’ he said.
Two hours later they were driving in silence back to Jambalyn, Callie navigating the heavy traffic while a grim-faced Sebastian stared out his window. The scene in the Jessop house played over and over in her mind. He’d been so damn brave.
Braver than that day on the bridge in his bulletproof vest. Braver than that night confronting an arrogant fool in a restaurant. Braver than baring his soul as he presented an important paper with a deep personal connection in front of hundreds of colleagues.
Remembering Sebastian holding a distraught man who was at the end of his tether, brought a king-size lump to Callie’s throat as she pulled up at a red light. She glanced at him. He looked exhausted, the lines around his eyes and mouth more pronounced, his usually erect frame slightly less so.
It was the first time she’d seen him looking every one of his forty years.
But more than that, he looked...alone and she couldn’t bear it. Not when she was right here beside him. She slid her hand onto his thigh and gave a gentle squeeze. ‘Tough day for you.’
Sebastian rubbed a hand across his eyes giving her a half smile as he covered her hand. ‘Tougher for Frank.’