by Amy Andrews
He glanced all the way up her body as it bucked and bowed. Up over the slight rise of her belly, up her ribcage and over her breasts. Her arms were flung above her head, her hands gripping the edge of bench behind her. It emphasised the roundness of her breasts and his erection surged at the sight before he returned his full attention to her fast-approaching orgasm.
Callie rocked her head from side to side. The ripples had started and she was about to go. She looked down, the sight of her bent knees bracketing his shoulders and his head between her legs as he sat on the stool and feasted on her like she was his own private smorgasbord was all she needed.
‘Cade!’ she cried out, as sensation slammed into her and her back arched off the bench for long seconds as everything tightened and coalesced. Then her body bucked once, twice, three times, her back practically curling up off the bench as a wave of high-octane pleasure blasted her equilibrium to pieces.
She wasn’t sure she was even going to make it through.
And he hadn’t laid a finger on her.
CHAPTER NINE
CADE DIDN’T STOP until Callie was spent and begging him to stop, her feet drumming on the arms of the stool. ‘No more… .’ she gasped. ‘I…can’t stand it.’
But he didn’t want to stop. He wanted to give her more. To take her to those heights again. He wanted to join her there. He stood, one hand seeking his back pocket and the other reaching for the button on his trousers.
But the sight of her rendered him useless.
Callie was all stretched out before him, eyes shut, arms flung high, loose tendrils of hair floating around her head, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her nipples engorged with blood, several shades darker than the strawberry pink of earlier. A slight flush tattooed her abdomen. Her legs were parted in wanton abandon.
And all this amidst a sea of green fabric. It was a visually stunning sight and for a moment, caught up in the blatant sexuality of it all, he looked his fill.
She looked like Titian himself could have painted her—all wild red hair and unashamed nudity. He could have called it Sated, framed it in heavy gilt and hung it in a museum next to any of his other nudes. Of course, Callie was too athletically shaped to be one of his models but her unselfconscious pose could definitely inspire great art.
‘Cade?’ she murmured huskily, opening her eyes, lifting her arms up, holding them wide open in silent invitation.
Her voice yanked him back to the aching hard-on in his trousers. ‘Hang on,’ he said, his accent laced with desire, burred around the edges, softer, not as pronounced.
He yanked down his zip and retrieved his wallet, kicking the stool back at the same time as it hampered his movement. Callie’s legs collapsed as it toppled and banged to the floor.
‘Sorry,’ he muttered, as her thighs hit the bench and her legs, bent at the knee, swung freely over the side.
She shook her head and looked up at him. ‘Just hurry,’ she gasped. ‘I want to feel you inside me.’
Cade didn’t need any more encouragement as he found the condom in his wallet—the one he’d started carrying again when Callie had made her intentions clear. He reached into his underwear and freed his raging erection. It felt good to be out, surging against his hand as he swiftly donned the protection that felt ten times too small around his taut girth.
And then he was reaching for the edges of the gown beneath her. ‘This,’ he said as he yanked and she slid closer, her butt aligning with the edge of the bench, ‘is going to screw with the no-sex clause.’
Callie’s breasts jiggled enticingly and he leaned over on a groan and sucked one into his mouth as her ankles locked firmly around his waist. ‘Aren’t we done with that?’ she gasped.
Cade removed his mouth, guiding himself to her entrance, careful not to lay a finger on her. The bench was just the right height and he pushed in just a little, satisfied to hear the harsh suck of her breath. ‘Not yet,’ he murmured. ‘Matter of principle.’
Then he leaned over her again on bent elbows, their torsos aligning, his forearms flat on the bench on either side of her ribs.
‘Oh, well, two out of…’ Cade thrust, cutting her off, and all that could be heard was his groan and her gasp. Her hands grabbed his shoulders, her nails digging in. ‘…three isn’t bad,’ she finished.
Cade dropped his forehead to her shoulder, his eyes closing as he savoured the feel of her clamped around him—hot and tight. The press of her breasts, the sting of her nails. But soon enough a primal beat pulsed through his head, urging him to move again. To rock. To thrust. To pound.
And it would not be ignored.
He eased almost all the way out before sliding back in again, feeling her squeeze him tight all over again. She grabbed his back, lower, her moan stoking the fire threading through his veins, urging him on.
She was so wet and hot and he’d done that to her. Him. He pulled out then thrust again. And again.
‘More,’ she gasped. It was right near his ear and he gave her exactly what she wanted.
He went harder, faster. Deeper. She cried out. Her legs unlocked, her knees bending to bracket his hips, each foot coming to rest on a buttock, her heels pressing in, holding him tight and close, urging him deeper.
So he went deeper, pushing in till he was seated high and hard inside her—right to the hilt for both of them. Gliding into the same spot over and over as she cried out in pleasure.
His own pleasure rushed at him fast. Building slowly and gently to begin with then, as the keening noises at the back of her throat turned into full-fledged whimpers, suddenly hitting fever pitch as her feet started to drum urgently against his buttocks.
He tried to hold it back as long as he could. To ignore the drag and the claw of it. But it rode him hard and he gasped into her neck as it kicked into hyperdrive.
Callie wasn’t sure if it was the way he was angled over her, putting just the right amount of pressure and thrust over just the right spot, but she built again quickly. By the time he was coming apart in her arms, groaning his release into her neck, muttering, ‘Callie, Callie, Callie,’ over and over with each frantic thrust, she was there, too.
It was somehow richer this time, deeper, more satisfying. Travelling to every part of her body as she bucked against him. Immersing her in light and heat and a glow that held her suspended in its thrall.
Neither of them moved for the longest time. They just lay together, joined, struggling to settle the rapid beat of their hearts, to get their breath back. Their minds back. One hand had entwined in his hair, holding his head against her shoulder, while the other held on hard halfway down his back and they lay there, spent—replete—until the world righted itself.
Cade moved first, lifting his head off her shoulder to stare down into her flushed face. She looked just like she had the first time: utterly sexually paralysed.
‘Look, Mom,’ he murmured. ‘No hands.’
Callie laughed. ‘Yes, very clever. But you still caved in. You still had sex with me. And,’ she said, looking down his body, ‘with all your clothes on.’
Cade smiled. ‘What can I say? You make me lose my mind.’ He kissed her then, long and slow, savouring the taste of her.
‘Oh, so you’re kissing me now,’ she said, her heart squeezing at the tenderness as he pulled away.
‘Yup. Kissing and…’ he brought his hands to her face and traced both sides of her jaw with his index finger ‘…laying on fingers. Everywhere. I have nothing more to prove.’
Callie’s eyes drifted shut. ‘It was always doomed to fail.’
He smiled as he dropped his face to her neck to nuzzle it. ‘That cake’s smelling good,’ he murmured as his nose followed the lingering scent of vanilla to her ear. His lips caressed the soft place behind it. ‘How much longer?’
Callie opened her eyes and raised her arm to look at her watch. ‘Fifteen minutes,’ she said, her arm gliding onto his shoulder as she enjoyed his lazy afterplay.
‘Good, that’ll do,’ he sa
id. ‘Hold on.’
And then, still joined, he was pulling her upwards, gathering her close, sliding his hands beneath her bottom and lifting her off the bench.
Callie laughed as she locked her legs around his waist. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Your bed,’ he said. ‘I hope you have a good supply of condoms in this place.’
Callie licked his neck. ‘I never run out of anything. It’s the country girl in me.’
‘Yee-haw,’ Cade said as he strode in the direction of her bedroom.
Half an hour later, cake completely forgotten, they were lying in the dark, gasping for breath again. Cade had disposed of the condom and they were staring at the ceiling, their heads still spinning. With her door shut and the night shadows playing on the walls, the rest of the world felt very far away.
‘Man,’ Callie said, ‘you are good at that.’
It was surprising how many men weren’t. And it was most definitely surprising which ones turned out to be duds. Just because a man looked good didn’t necessarily mean a damn thing. Callie had learned early to never judge a book by its cover.
Cade laughed. He felt ten feet tall and bulletproof at the frank appreciation in her voice. ‘I had some good teachers.’
Callie turned her head. Their night vision had been given a good workout already and she could see every plane and angle of him in the greyscale of the night. ‘Teachers? Plural? Oh, do tell.’
Cade realised he’d let something slip that he’d never told anyone. Not even Alex. But there was just something about Callie that encouraged confidences. Maybe it was their alikeness, maybe it was because he knew she guarded her privacy as much as he guarded his, maybe it was because he already felt she knew so much about him because of her friendship with Alex.
Or maybe it was just the rush of endorphins. But he found himself telling her anyway. ‘When I was sixteen I just couldn’t live at home any more. My father…’
Cade stopped. He didn’t want this to become a tale of woe about his awful home life. Because this chapter was really where his life had turned a corner.
‘Let’s just say it was completely untenable to live at home by then… . Anyway, I was in the right place at the right time and landed this job at a posh house in Beverly Hills. Cleaning the pool, maintaining the gardens…Stuff like that.’
‘You still went to school, though?’
Cade nodded. ‘Yeah. I’d go straight from school to Sharon’s.’
Callie raised an eyebrow. ‘Sharon, huh?’ She smiled, scooting over to prop her head on his shoulder. He sounded so American, talking about Beverly Hills and pool boys, and she wanted to touch him some more.
‘Sharon was divorced, loaded and with no kids and no need to work there was nothing much to fill her days. Or her nights.’
Callie raised her head slightly to look at him. ‘She was your first?’ He nodded. ‘How old was she?’
‘Forty-three. A very well put-together forty-three.’
Callie blinked. ‘She was old enough to be your—’
‘Mother,’ Cade finished for her. ‘Yes, I guess she was. But she was nice and I really hadn’t had a lot of niceness.’
Callie nodded and lay back on his shoulder. It was easy to forget that Cade had come from a broken home. The man oozed success and confidence like pheromones. However messed up her brief marriage had been, however much it had damaged her, at least she’d grown up in a secure and loving household.
Cade stroked his fingers down her bare arm, lost back in time. It had been the first time he’d felt cared for. He didn’t need a psychiatrist to tell him that was all kinds of messed up. But he’d never known his mother, had only known Alex’s mom for a few brief years before her death, and the only other person he’d connected to—Alex—had walked away from his father’s brutality the first chance he’d got.
Cade had blamed him for a long time for that—not any more. But when there’d been just him and his father, who could have won gold had neglect been an Olympic sport, home hadn’t been an option.
‘She took care of herself, you know?’ he said. ‘Took pride in herself and her home. She looked great, smelled even better. They all did.’
Callie quirked an eyebrow, turning on her side so she could see his face. ‘All?’
Cade nodded. ‘Sharon had a lot of friends.’
‘Let me guess,’ Callie murmured. ‘They were nice, as well.’
Cade grinned. ‘Very accommodating. They tutored me in the fine art of what women want and after a few years of cleaning their pools and mowing their lawns I also had enough money to go to medical school. I wouldn’t have had that start without Sharon. I sure as hell wouldn’t have got it from my father.’
Callie absently stroked her finger in a lazy circle down the meaty pillow of his pec, around his nipple and back again. ‘So that amazing sexual prowess of yours is compliments of a bunch of cougars?’
Cade chuckled. ‘I guess you could say that.’
‘Well, I bet you had natural talent even back then,’ she said, brushing her fingers lightly over his nipple.
This time Cade’s laugh was closer to a hoot. ‘Oh, I was fairly green.’ He shut his eyes as Callie’s lazy caress fanned the coals of his desire. ‘The first time wasn’t pretty. But…’ he quickly displaced Callie from his shoulder, rolling on top of her and pinning her to the bed ‘…I was a very quick study.’
Callie’s breath caught as Cade’s mouth found the hollow of her throat. ‘Something vital for every prenatal surgeon,’ she said as she shut her eyes and extended her neck so Cade could ravage it to his heart’s content.
Cade loved that he could still smell the heady aroma of vanilla despite his very best attempts at licking every lingering trace from her skin. ‘What about you?’ he murmured, as he nuzzled along a collarbone. ‘Was Joe your first?’
Callie’s eyes blinked open in the night. The fizz bubbling through her veins evaporated.
Cade felt her stillness instantly. He pulled his head away from the fascinating contours of her shoulders to look down into her face. ‘Come on, Callie, I told you mine.’
Callie shook her head. ‘This is not truth or dare,’ she said, avoiding his suddenly intense gaze.
‘True,’ he murmured, going back for her neck again, ‘but that could be fun. You do truth and I’ll do dare. Trust me,’ he said, grinding his revived erection against the heat between her legs as his lips brushed farther south. ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’
Callie shut her eyes again as her belly clenched and her hormones betrayed her. ‘You like to play dirty.’
‘Oh, we haven’t even skimmed the surface of how dirty I can be.’
And to make his point he swiped his tongue across her rapidly hardening nipple and then sucked it into his mouth, grazing the tip with his teeth, nipping the sensitive flesh until her nails dug into his shoulders and her back arched off the mattress.
‘So,’ he said, lifting his head and blowing on the mauled tip. ‘Joe?’
Callie opened her eyes as the warm air rapidly cooling her raw flesh was its own kind of torture. He was looking at her so intensely and she thought, I could love this man. It was a bizarre thought at the wrong time with an inappropriate man but locked in this embrace with him she felt she could tell him anything.
‘Joe never wanted me like that.’
It was the first time she’d admitted it to another person. She’d been torturing herself with the knowledge for years—deep inside her head where it had bounced and echoed and grown into a monster that had driven her to seek solace wherever she could find it.
Cade frowned, supporting himself on his elbows, his hands framing her face, brushing hair off her forehead, circling his thumbs against the soft points of her temples. ‘Oh. I’m sorry. I got the impression that you were in love with Joe.’
‘I was,’ Callie said. ‘I even married him.’
It was Cade’s turn to become still. ‘You were married?’ He thought about it for a second. ‘Ha
ng on, you’re not still married, are you?’
Callie shook her head. ‘No. It only lasted a year.’
‘How old were you?’
‘Eighteen.’
Cade gaped. ‘You got married at eighteen?’
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Callie had once been married—at eighteen. He shifted off her, knowing he couldn’t have this conversation with the distraction of his erection. He tucked a hand under his head as he rolled up onto his bent elbow, his other hand sliding onto her belly.
Now some of the reasons behind Callie’s relationship with her mother were making sense. Who got married at eighteen any more?
He tried to put the pieces together in his head. ‘What did you mean when you said that Joe never wanted you like that? Do you mean…the marriage wasn’t…consummated?’
Callie had the absurd urge to laugh at the very old-fashioned English word coming out of Cade’s very American mouth. ‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘Went into it a virgin, came out of it a virgin.’
The bitterness and derision in her voice could have sharpened knives. ‘So…what happened?’
Callie wished she knew. It had been thirteen years and she still didn’t have a clue. ‘He just didn’t want me… . He was never interested.’
‘You obviously didn’t try before you bought.’
Callie shook her head. ‘He wanted to wait. For it to be special.’ She shrugged. ‘I’d loved Joe forever. I was thrilled that he’d put me on this pedestal where I was precious and virtuous. He’d had so many girlfriends. But he chose me. All I’d ever wanted to do was marry him and have his babies.’
Cade couldn’t reconcile the ambitious woman he knew with the starry-eyed girl she was talking about. ‘What happened on the wedding night?’
