by Julie Cannon
“No, but it’s always fun to hear about someone’s first time down here.”
Dillon didn’t hear anything else Phyllis said, preferring to plan her and Callie’s first time down here, as she called it. This wasn’t her first time anywhere. She had been to the Bahamas many times, seduced dozens of women, and closed hundreds of deals. She knew what she needed to do, and she would have Callie and a signed deed by the end of tomorrow.
Dinner over, Dillon could hardly wait to be alone with Callie. She was attracted to her, but she also needed to lock her in, at least until the papers were signed. She had flirted with and teased Callie all afternoon and well into the evening, and much to her delight, Bill and Phyllis joined in. Bill was seeing what he wanted to, and Callie was playing her part flawlessly, even though she didn’t realize it.
Dillon’s scheme was working, and even though sleeping with Callie was part of the plan, it certainly wasn’t another day at the office. Finally it was late enough for them to say good night without being overly rude and dashing toward the bedroom. But who was she fooling? Bill’s deep laughter followed them up the stairs.
Callie stiffened when she heard the door lock. The sound echoed in the small room. It signaled loud and clear what was about to happen. And she knew it would. She wanted it to. Nothing would or could stop them from consummating their attraction tonight. And she was scared shitless.
She had her share of sexual experiences, but not lately, and certainly not with a woman of Dillon’s caliber.
Dillon must have read her mind because she said, “It’s just you and me here, Callie. I don’t want to speak for you, but I think it’s safe to say you’re attracted to me.”
Callie’s chuckle came out more calm than she felt. “Ya think?”
Dillon smiled. “I’m attracted to you. We’re in a beautiful place, with good people, the sun, and now the stars. What more do we need?” Dillon slowly approached Callie, who momentarily felt like turning and running. She took Callie’s hand and kissed the same palm she’d kissed earlier that morning in the middle of the bay.
Dillon’s kiss caused the same reaction this time as the one earlier, so she kissed Dillon’s hand in return. She could even taste a trace of salt on her skin left behind by the sea water from this morning. Her stomach jumped and she found it difficult to breathe. “I think I need my head examined.” Callie tried to dispel her nervousness with laughter.
“Why is that?”
“Because even though I know we really shouldn’t do this, I’m going to anyway.” Callie stepped forward and held Dillon’s face in her hands. She caressed Dillon’s cheeks and lips with her thumbs. She looked into gray eyes that turned black under her gaze. Her heart was racing so loud she couldn’t have heard herself think if she had to. So she didn’t. She kissed Dillon instead.
Callie always thought the descriptor of rockets exploding behind your eyes was a myth created by the authors of those trashy romance novels Phyllis was reading this afternoon. But when her tongue disappeared inside Dillon’s mouth, she took back everything she had ever said about them. Every nerve in her body came alive, and she thought she would explode from the sensations that threatened to overwhelm her.
Dillon’s tongue darted in and out of her mouth while her hands roamed freely over her body. One by one Dillon opened the buttons on her shirt and replaced the cool breeze on her skin with her hot hands. Alternatively caressing then demanding, her fingers explored Callie’s stomach and back, inching tantalizingly closer to her breasts with each stroke. When Dillon’s palm cupped her breast she inhaled sharply and pulled Dillon closer. Dillon released her mouth and turned her attention to the valley between her breasts.
With agonizing slowness Dillon unhooked her bra, and her breasts spilled out into her waiting hands. Dillon’s thumbs gently caressed her nipples, which grew harder under the attention. Dillon’s lips were hot on her flesh and she squeezed her breasts together and kissed them both. Suddenly Callie pushed her away. “Take your clothes off. I want to feel you. I need your skin on mine.”
Dillon gazed into her eyes and kissed her again, this time softly and tenderly. Callie lay on the bed and watched Dillon shrug out of her shirt and step out of her shorts, her boxers ending in a heap at her feet. Today’s underwear was adorned with rowboats, and Callie thanked God she didn’t have a repeat of the giggles. Dillon gazed down at her, pulling off her shorts and panties, and Callie watched as she revealed inch after inch of her flesh. The edges of the tattoo she saw yesterday led to a vivid image of a phoenix rising from its own ashes, which began just above her left nipple. Why would Dillon choose such an unusual bird for a tattoo? But the question faded when Dillon licked her lips. Callie thought she might climax from Dillon’s simple action. She reached up and pulled her down on top of her.
“God, you feel good,” Callie said as she wrapped her arms and legs around Dillon’s hard body. Dillon murmured something into her neck as she slid her thigh between Callie’s legs. Callie arched toward the pressure, eager for release.
“Shh, not yet,” Dillon answered her thrusts. “We have all night and I’m not ready for you to let go. I want to see you, touch you, taste every inch of you.” And she did.
They made love for hours, sucking, tasting, nibbling, demanding, coaxing, and worshiping each other’s bodies. Callie had never been so loved and explored, and when Dillon entered her for the first time, she had never felt so full. Dillon was gentle, yet she demanded more from Callie than she had ever given. Dillon’s tongue was like feathery magic on her clitoris, and her fingers unerringly found the most sensitive spots on her body. They were covered in sweat and sex, arms and legs intertwined when Callie finally fell asleep, exhausted.
Chapter Twelve
Hair tickled Dillon’s nose. She was lying on her back with Callie curled into her side. One arm was across her stomach, and Dillon stroked the leg that lay seductively across the top of her thighs. Callie had been asleep for an hour, or at least Dillon thought it was an hour. She had listened to the deep rhythmic cadence of her breath as it slowed. Dillon was too wired to drift off, the effects of their lovemaking lasting long after her last climax. This was unusual for her. She either fell dead to the world or calmly got out of bed and went home. Rarely did she go in for snuggling or the current intimacy.
Callie had been a dynamic lover. Once she got over her initial shyness, she was active, eager, and insatiable. Dillon smiled against the warm head lying on her chest. Actually, she couldn’t remember anyone driving her as crazy as Callie had last night. She couldn’t keep her hands off her, and every time Dillon tried to take control, Callie pushed her away until she was ready for her.
If sex with Callie was the reward for an added complication of Bill’s land, Dillon had no complaints and no regrets, especially if it was fabulous sex. Dillon frowned. Had she prostituted herself for this business arrangement?
No, of course not. She was hot for Callie and Callie was a willing participant. Didn’t that make them two consenting adults? Callie was aware that Dillon wanted Bill’s land. She’d known that when they went to dinner. Dillon had made it clear she needed a date for the dinner party and why. How much more obvious could she be?
Dillon lay quietly, still unable to sleep. Her brain jumped at lightning speed from one topic to the other, the ties between them threadbare yet connected. She wished she were one of those women who after making love could simply relax and enjoy the afterglow, let her mind wander, think of absolutely nothing. But here she was with a beautiful woman in her arms, thinking about land permits, construction delays, and the price of concrete.
Callie rolled over onto her side and pulled Dillon with her. Her blond hair smelled like strawberries, and Dillon buried her face deep in the back of her neck. Callie’s head was cradled in the crook of one of her arms while her other one was free to roam the body pressed tight against her chest. Callie’s legs were long and the gentle swell of her hip enticing. Dillon moved her hand back and forth, paying special atten
tion to the hills and valleys that made up the breathtaking landscape of Callie’s body. With each stroke, she desired Callie more, but for the first time ever she was content to caress solely for pleasure instead of arousal.
Callie was still sleeping soundly when Dillon finally got up. She wanted to stay in that same position forever, but she finally had to give in to the thousand needles pricking her arm on which Callie lay. The dresser drawer creaked when she tried it and she froze, turning around to see if Callie had awakened. She didn’t move, and Dillon slowly opened the drawer just enough to slide out a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. She pulled on a robe over her clothes and silently closed the bedroom door behind her.
When Dillon entered the room Phyllis was standing next to the coffeepot, pouring a cup. She gave Dillon the once-over and held out her hand. “It looks like you need this more than I do.”
Dillon had some idea of how she looked, since she had barely slept all night. “Thanks.” She cradled the cup, inhaling the rich aroma. She felt better already. Just as she was about to take her first sip, a hand passed over her shoulders and down her arm in a touch only lovers share.
Callie sat down beside her and she said, “I thought you were asleep.”
Dillon’s stomach jumped a little when Callie looked deep into her eyes. Morning-after shy she was not. “I was, but when I woke up you were gone.” Callie’s voice was quiet, so only Dillon could hear.
“I needed coffee,” Dillon explained. The gaze Callie was giving her told her Dillon would have received exactly what she needed if she had stayed in bed. Tomorrow morning she wouldn’t make that mistake.
“Callie, dear, can I get you a cup?”
With one last sultry look that said your loss, Callie turned her attention to Phyllis. “I’d love one, thank you.”
“You two have any plans for today?” Phyllis set the steaming cup in front of Callie.
Dillon couldn’t resist a little teasing herself. “Well, what I’d really like to do is—” She stopped when Callie kicked her under the table and gave Callie a two-can-play-at-this-game look. What she really wanted to do was go back upstairs and make love all day, and Callie’s panicked expression said she was afraid Dillon would actually say just that.
“Whatever you and Bill want, Phyllis.”
Callie gave her a good-answer nod.
The four of them strolled through some of the shops for most of the morning, and in the late afternoon they went deep-sea fishing. Dillon caught several fish, one of which was a barracuda at least forty inches long. Callie landed an amberjack and after forty minutes of struggle finally pulled it in on deck. They had dinner at Anthony’s Caribbean Grill, and Dillon dropped a few hundred dollars in the slot machines in the casino at the Atlantis Hotel. They strolled back to the Franklins’ condo stuffed, tanned, and tired.
After Callie declined an after-dinner drink, opting for a hot shower instead, Dillon watched her retreat up the stairs and kicked herself for not immediately following. Now she would have to wait until it was acceptable for her to go upstairs, all the while picturing Callie naked with rivulets of water cascading down her smooth body. She had a double.
Dillon finished her drink as quickly as she could, only half paying attention to what Bill was talking about. He was ready to turn in as well, and she forced herself to match his stride as they climbed the stairs. She wanted Callie so badly she wasn’t sure she would be able to control herself, imagining Callie lying on the bed under the thin sheet.
Her anticipation increased more every second as she walked down the hall, intending to make love to Callie again. They hadn’t said as much, but the way Callie had looked at her all day told her that Callie knew tonight would be a repeat of last. When Dillon finally got into the room she was on fire, and as she closed the door the sound of the lock catching made her mouth dry. There was something inherently sensuous and slightly naughty about locking a door or hanging out the Do Not Disturb sign.
Callie was propped against the headboard, the sheet pulled up just above her breasts. The rapid rise and fall of the fabric clearly indicated she was also ready. The light on the nightstand was on, casting a soft glow over the bed. Dillon slowly crossed the room, each step deliberate in her seduction. Locking eyes with Callie as she moved closer, she slowly removed each piece of her clothing. By the time she stood within arm’s reach of Callie, she was naked.
The hunger in Callie’s eyes undid her, and when Callie reached for her, Dillon’s knees buckled. Callie pulled her onto the bed and rolled on top of her. She smelled like shampoo and soap, and Dillon was suddenly conscious that she smelled like the Franklins’ fishing boat. “I need to take a shower.”
“Later. What you need is to let me make love to you.”
Callie’s mouth descended, and when their lips touched, Dillon wrapped her arms around her neck. Callie was a fabulous kisser and Dillon could spend hours simply exploring her lips. Callie nibbled on her bottom lip, then lightly ran her tongue over the edge of it with a deliberate slowness that drove Dillon crazy. She wanted all of Callie’s mouth or none, not this teasing, the dangling of ecstasy just out of her reach.
Dillon tried to twist Callie onto her back but Callie was surprisingly strong. “No, you don’t. All day I thought of you lying flat on your back in this bed. I plan to kiss every inch of your body from your head to the tip of your toes. Then I’ll lick and suck my way back up again. And I might even take a detour right about here for a few days.” She slid her fingers into Dillon’s center.
Dillon lifted her hips to meet the inquiring fingers but Callie pulled away. Dillon groaned in frustration. One more stroke and she would have come. Callie must have sensed her readiness and pulled out just in time.
Callie did exactly what she said she was going to do, and by the time she finished, every nerve ending in Dillon’s body was screaming for release. She had never been so aroused, and if Callie’s lovemaking weren’t such pleasure, she would be in agony. As it was, she wanted to come so badly all she had to do was close her eyes and envision Callie’s head between her legs and she would burst. But as much as she wanted to come, she would not deny Callie what she wanted.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of foreplay, Callie’s mouth settled where Dillon needed it the most. She used her fingers to separate the folds of flesh and lightly blew on the hard bud. Dillon moaned and felt Callie smile against her inner thigh. Callie’s tongue darted out and flicked her clit once, then twice, followed by long strokes that moved over her. Dillon gripped the sheets, arching her back. Callie looked up at her and simultaneously slid her tongue into her, never breaking eye contact. The sight of Callie watching her while her tongue pulsated in and out of her core was too much. Dillon exploded.
Her hips lifted off the bed, accompanied by Callie’s determination to lick and suck the life out of her. She rocked, Callie’s tongue matching her thrust for thrust. Dillon lost all track of the here and now as she rode the waves of pleasure crashing over her. Repeatedly she followed the path to oblivion and back again, all under the skillful mouth of Callie Sheffield. The roar in her ears almost deafened her as it grew louder with each approaching climax.
Finally spent, she fell back on the bed barely able to breathe. Dillon didn’t know if she’d screamed or not. God, she hoped not, with Bill and Phyllis in the next room. Her throat was dry, but that could have happened when she practically hyperventilated. Callie was still between her legs, depositing soft, gentling kisses on her thighs. When Callie ventured too close to the part of her body that was now too sensitive to be touched, Dillon pulled her up. Callie settled her weight on top of her, sliding her thigh between Dillon’s legs high enough to press against her.
Callie was breathing almost as fast as Dillon, and her body was covered in a light sheen of sweat. Dillon ran her fingers over the hard back and into her damp hair. She pulled Callie’s head from where it rested on her shoulder and kissed her. She tasted herself on Callie’s lips and her desire began to rise again. Dillon had
to have her, and she had to have her now.
This time when Dillon rolled Callie onto her back she didn’t resist, but pulled Dillon’s head to her breasts. Dillon feasted on the warm flesh, teasing each nipple to erectness and then teasing it some more. With each nip and suck Callie moaned and moved her hips toward Dillon in the universal symbol for release. Dillon wanted to give to Callie as much as she had received, but she sensed Callie couldn’t wait. She lightly bit on one nipple while she slid two fingers deep inside.
Warmth wrapped around her fingers and a surge of wetness spilled into her palm. When she found Callie’s pleasure point with her thumb, the flesh around her fingers tightened and Callie’s pulse beat rapidly. She wanted Callie, had to taste her, had to have the very last drop of her. Dillon shifted, and when she replaced her thumb with her mouth, Callie whispered her name as she climaxed.
The sound of her name falling from Callie’s lips was as soft as the wind blowing through the trees. Dillon felt as if she had come home. She was right where she wanted to be. She was awed by the power this simple physical act of one body touching another could have on her. Sex had always been pleasurable, but she had never felt as powerful yet vulnerable as she did right now. Callie was a desirable, passionate lover. Making love to Callie was more than just a physical release. It was spiritual, and Dillon could see herself doing it over and over every night for a very long time.
*
Phyllis leaned back against the counter, looking at Dillon as she nursed her coffee. “You know, when you get to be my age you get a free pass to say whatever you want,” Phyllis said after a few minutes of silence.
“And what’s that, Phyllis?” Between not enough sleep and Callie’s naked body upstairs in their warm bed, Dillon wasn’t very sharp this morning. Otherwise, she might not have invited Phyllis to continue.
“Are you going to marry that girl?”
Dillon choked on her coffee and it dribbled down her chin. She reached for a napkin before it could drop on the counter. “I beg your pardon?”
