Too good not to move. Not to flex up and down and back and forth and round and round. Too good not to find a rhythm that was perfect and would drive them both towards a conclusion that had been building between them all night.
Her fingernails curled into his shoulders, his fingers gripped her hips like steel bands as they did just that, staring into each other’s eyes as the tempo picked up, finding a rhythm and an angle that tripped her switch. His fingers slid between her legs again, not teasing this time but going straight to the spot she needed it most and rubbing sure and hard.
Nothing fancy. Just merciless pressure.
‘God, yes,’ Felicity gasped, drumming her feet behind her on the bed, riding him harder, faster as the fabric of her world started to tear from the inside out. Her thighs trembled, her nails dug in a little harder, her belly pulled taut.
Her orgasm hit hard roaring from a tiny quiver to an all-consuming pleasure storm within seconds.
‘Yes,’ he muttered, working her harder, faster, vaulting upright to press his lips to her neck, whispering, ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ as she slid her arms around his shoulders and came apart in his arms.
He flipped her on her back then, his forehead pressed into her neck, driving in faster and faster, sustaining her pleasure as he reached his own, groaning long and low into her ear as he came hard, sweat slicking the valley between his shoulder blades, his biceps trembling, her name on his lips as he spent himself inside her until he had no more to give and they both lay panting to the rock and sway of the train.
CALLUM WAS EATING breakfast the next morning when Felicity finally put in an appearance. He’d left her sleeping two hours ago when the train had pulled into Broken Hill and woken him. It hadn’t woken her and he’d told a hovering Donald not to wake her for the tour she’d been booked on or for breakfast.
‘Of course,’ he’d said, nodding his head. ‘It was a late one, wasn’t it?’
Callum’s smile had been noncommittal. Little did Donald know just how late it had been. They’d enjoyed two more rounds of ‘inventive’ sex due to lack of protection. He’d only managed two hours’ sleep.
But, then, insomnia had been part of his life for the last two years. He’d learned that lying around in bed, willing himself back to sleep, was counterproductive. Ignoring the tour options, he’d showered and gone through some more of his reading, as well as contacting his ride to let her know to delay her pick-up.
‘Good morning,’ Felicity said as she sat in the empty chair opposite him. Callum had been staring out the window, watching the scenery flash by, as he sipped his third cup of coffee. He had his sunglasses on to deal with the excessive sunlight flooding in through the glass because the view was too good to pass up.
He smiled at her. She looked fresh from the shower in jeans and a T-shirt, her wet hair pulled back into a ponytail low on her nape. An image of her riding him last night, honey-blonde strands flying loose around her bare shoulders, slid into his mind unbidden.
‘It is,’ he agreed. ‘A very good morning.’
A small smile touched her mouth before a blush stole across her cheekbones and she dropped her gaze to the tablecloth briefly before raising it again. ‘You’re kind of chipper for someone who didn’t get a lot of sleep.’
Callum shrugged. ‘Some things are worth losing sleep over.’
‘Absolutely.’ She looked like she was about to say more but one of the wait staff interrupted, filling Felicity’s cup with coffee. ‘About last night...’ she said after they departed, spooning in some sugar and stirring absently.
She seemed wary and unsure suddenly, staring at the circling spoon, reluctant to meet his gaze. Alarm bells rang in his head and his hair prickled at his nape. Was she going to suggest that they make it something more? Was she going to ask for his number? Or a date? Was she going to morph into some kind of clingy, bunny-boiler who wanted some kind of relationship?
Because, as incredible as it had been—and it had been incredible—he just didn’t have time and space in his life at the moment for a romantic entanglement. He was trying to get his life back on track and last night had purely been the inevitable end to a couple of hours of flirting and one massive adrenaline hit.
Hadn’t it?
Hell. He didn’t even know her last name.
‘I don’t...’ She placed her spoon on the saucer and glanced at him. ‘I don’t usually do this kind of thing.’
Callum nodded. There wasn’t one part of him that thought she did. ‘Yeah. I got that.’
‘Not that I think,’ she hastened to add, ‘there’s anything wrong with hooking up. It’s just not...me, you know? Well, of course you know because I’m totally screwing this up in a very unsophisticated way, exactly like I’ve never done this before, but look...I live in this small town where everybody knows everybody else and they’re all in each other’s business and all the guys my age there think of me as Flick so I don’t often get the opportunity to...’
He waited for her to continue but she appeared to have run out of steam. Callum couldn’t figure out where she was going with this. Was the reason she was telling him she was a small-town girl her way of saying her daddy had a gun and he was now part of the family whether he liked it or not?
‘Oh, God, sorry.’ She grimaced, covering her face with her hand before dropping it again and shaking her head. ‘I’m babbling. I swore I wouldn’t babble.’
Callum laughed, which surprised the hell out of him. She really was quite cute when she was flummoxed. ‘It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m not judging you and there were extraordinary circumstances last night.’
‘Sure.’ She picked up her cup and sipped, her gaze zeroing in on his. ‘But you and I both know we were heading to bed even before our adrenaline-induced recklessness.’
There was no point denying that one. In fact, he was damn certain they’d have done it more than three times had their flirting not been so catastrophically interrupted.
‘You’re very direct, aren’t you?’ He liked that.
She laughed. ‘Usually yes. Although not so much right now. It’s the nurse in me.’ She glanced out the window for a beat or two before looking at him again. ‘What I’m trying to say—very inelegantly—is that I hope you don’t think...I mean want or expect even...that this is anything more than just last night. Just two strangers on a train, in a...bubble almost. Indulging in something spontaneous. I mean, I like you but...hell, I don’t even know your last name or where you live or what kind of doctor you are or even if you’re going on to Perth.’
Callum opened his mouth to tell her it was okay. He got it. He felt exactly the same way about what had happened between them. About spontaneity. About getting out of his head and just not being himself for a night. But she held up her hand to ward it off.
‘No. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know any of it either. I’d kind of like to keep this whole thing as a big, delicious secret. This...crazy thing I did once that’ll make me smile whenever I think about it. Maybe...’ she
