[4 Seasons 01] Seducing Summer (21 page)

“Have me, then.” She pulled him on top of
her and hooked her ankles behind his back. “Take me, Gene. I’m all yours.”

 

Chapter Twenty-Six

Callie was so fired up that she would have
been happy if Gene had slid straight inside her and thrust her all the way to a
blissful conclusion. But even though he was obviously as turned on as she was,
he appeared to have other ideas.

He started off by kissing her, long, slow,
deep kisses that started a fire in her belly and fanned it until it became a
roaring inferno. His hot, hard body only increased her desire, and she rocked
her hips against his, aching for fulfilment.

He lifted his head and kissed her nose.
“Slowly,” he said, amused. “I haven’t waited all day to have this over in
seconds.”

“But I ache,” she said with a groan.

His gray eyes surveyed her for a moment,
and then he lifted off her and moved to the side. Puzzled, she went to rise,
but he pulled her against him, and, before she could say anything, covered her
mouth with his and moved his free hand down her body. Lifting the elastic of
her panties, he slid his hand underneath and pressed his fingers into her
folds.

“Oh…” She inhaled sharply, her mouth
opening under his, but he just plunged his tongue inside, his fingers mimicking
its thrusts as they gathered up her moisture and then circled over her clit.

Already turned on, it took only moments
before all her internal muscles tightened, and she gave in to the orgasm,
exclaiming against his mouth while his fingers teased her until she lay gasping
and spent.

He lifted his head, withdrew his fingers,
and kissed her lips. “There,” he said. “Now we can start properly.”

“Fuck,” she said, heart pounding, her chest
heaving.

“Give me a chance,” he scolded, rolling her
toward him so he could undo the clasp of her bra. “Talk about demanding.”

She laughed and kissed him again, letting
him draw the bra down her arms and toss it onto the floor. Then he removed her
panties, leaving her lying there naked, before he reached for the velvet pouch.

“This is fun.” He pulled out the bottle of
warming lube and popped the top. “Like a scientific experiment.”

“So I’m a guinea pig, am I?” Her body felt
like a guitar string, still thrumming with her orgasm, and when he smeared a
small amount of the lube on each nipple, it was as if he’d plucked at the
string again, sending a vibration that rippled all the way through her.

“Yep.” He closed the lid of the bottle,
folded his arms, and leaned forward until his mouth was an inch from her
breast. Taking a deep breath, he blew out over her nipple.

“Ooh!” She squirmed beneath him at the
strange sensation of warmth.

“Nice?” He leaned across her to try the
other one, doing the same, blowing out across the sensitive skin.

“Mmm. Oh yes.” She closed her eyes in
bliss.

He chuckled and covered the nipple with his
mouth, and her eyes flew open again. “
Aaahhh
.” The lube intensified the
heat of his mouth, making the skin ultra-sensitive and sending tingles through
her all the way down to her clit.

He concentrated on her breasts for a while,
licking and teasing them and fanning the flames inside her until the ache began
to build once more. Then he shifted down and reopened the bottle of lube.
Pouring a little onto his fingers, he stroked it through her folds.

“You really don’t need this,” he said, his
fingers sliding easily through her already wet, swollen skin.

“Gene…”

“Not a complaint. Just stating a fact.” He moved
two fingers deep inside her, and her hips lifted automatically, pushing toward
him.

Leaning over her, he blew a soft breath
from her clit down between her legs, then ran back up with his tongue.

Callie groaned and covered her face,
feeling as if she’d stepped into a warm bath. “I can’t take much more of this.”

He tutted, continuing to blow on her skin
and following up with light strokes of his tongue. “This is too easy. You’re
not much of a challenge.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” It was just too
lovely, and she was going to come again if he didn’t move away. She pushed at
his head and rolled over. “Stop it!”

Laughing, he moved back. “Lightweight.”

“Yeah, well, the shoe’s going to be on the
other foot now.” She took out the other bottle of lube from the pouch and
flipped open the top. “About time I had some fun.”

Gene sighed, lay on his back, and tucked
his arms under his head. “If you must.” His eyes met hers, hot and amused.
“Help yourself.”

“Mmm.” What an offer. His erection stood
proud of his body, the top glistening, begging to be licked. “I intend to.” She
poured a decent amount on her hand, made sure her fingers were well lubricated,
and then closed them around him.

He closed his eyes, his eyebrows rising as
he gave a helpless groan. Callie’s lips curved up, then she turned her full attention
to her hand. His erection was thick, her fingers barely meeting as she circled
the shaft. And he was hard, so hard, like rock, covered in a sheath of fine,
soft skin.

Gently, she slid her hand down, revealing
the swollen tip, and rubbed her thumb across it, smearing the lube all over him
before beginning to give him long, slow strokes. He held his breath for a
moment, then blew it out in a rush.

“How does that feel?” She twisted her
fingers as she stroked, massaging him carefully, covering him in lube until her
hand was sliding with little effort, slick and smooth.


Aaahhh
… It tingles. Feels hot and…
sensitive…” Not so relaxed now, he moved his hands from under his head, linked
his fingers, and rested them on his forehead. “Jesus. That feels good.”

Glad she was giving him pleasure, she
stroked him for a while longer, then—making sure his eyes were closed—she
lowered her head and covered the tip with her mouth.

“Fuck!” He jumped beneath her, and she had
to stifle a laugh as she slid her lips down the shaft. “What the… Jesus… Oh
fuck.” He lowered a hand to rest on her head, and threaded his fingers into her
hair. “Callie… That’s amazing…”

The lube tasted of strawberries, and Gene
tasted of hot, musky male, and Callie would have groaned herself if her mouth
hadn’t been full. She washed her tongue around the head, teasing the slit at
the top, then took him deep inside her mouth again, her thighs growing wet with
her own moisture the longer she spent arousing him.

He bore her touch for as long as he could,
but eventually he tugged on her hair, and she lifted her head and looked up at
him, catching her breath at his expression. All humor had gone now, and the
heat and desire in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine.

Lifting up, he reached for his wallet. She
put a hand on his wrist, though, stopping him as he went to retrieve a condom.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “Isn’t it
supposed to be extra nice when the two lubes combine?”

He tipped his head at her. “Yeah…”

“You want to try it? Just briefly? It’s up
to you.” She knew she was clean, and she trusted him and knew he wouldn’t
attempt it if he wasn’t.

“You’re sure?”

She was on the pill, so there was little-to-no
chance of getting pregnant. “Go for it.”

Eyes blazing, he rolled her onto her front
and then pulled her up to her knees. Callie rested on her elbows, steadying
herself as he moved behind her and positioned the tip of his erection between
her folds. She closed her eyes, biting her lips as he pushed his hips forward.

Both of them were so slippery that there
was no friction at all, and he slid right inside her in one easy thrust.

They both let out a long, heartfelt sigh.
The heat from her lube combined with the sensation from his, making everything
feel sensitive, hot, and tingly.

“Wow,” he said, confirming he felt the
same. He pulled back and thrust again, the position taking him deeper than
before.

“That’s amazing,” she whispered, widening
her knees to encourage him to push forward. He did, beginning a series of long,
deep thrusts that had them both groaning within minutes.

While he moved, he stroked down her back,
over her ribs, and cupped her breasts, playing with her nipples until she felt
the first stirrings of an orgasm. She moistened her lips, anticipating the
build, but at that point, Gene stopped moving and withdrew. She sighed, but it
was only a temporary pause, and a few seconds later, he’d applied a condom and
was back inside her.

“Mmm, Gene…” It was a shame not to be skin
on skin, but it still felt great, and she grabbed a pillow and rested her forehead
on it, pushing back against him.

“Oh, Callie…” He began to thrust harder,
his body obviously taking over from his wish to make it slow. She’d never felt
or heard anything so sexy, the air filled with the slick sounds of their flesh
sliding together, the sound of his hips meeting her bottom as he really began
to move. “Oh fuck,” he said, “tell me you’re close.”

“I… oh…” She couldn’t even get the words
out before her climax hit her, and she clamped around him and cried out into
the pillow as the intense pulses claimed her.

“Thank God.” He thrust hard, riding out her
orgasm, and then groaned as he came. “
Aaahhh
…”

Callie could only wait, aftershocks still
rippling through her as he continued to thrust deep inside her. His already
hard muscles seemed to have turned to rock, and they locked together for what
seemed like forever before their bodies finally released them, and they
collapsed in a tangle of limbs, limp and spent.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” Callie
knew she would never be able to move again. She felt as if she’d run a
marathon, swum ten miles, and then cycled halfway up a mountain. “I’m
exhausted.”

Gene lay heavy on her, pressing her into
the mattress. “Mmm,” was all he said, still breathing heavily.

Callie didn’t complain. She rested her lips
on his hands and pressed light kisses there as their bodies relaxed, the
sensitivity of her skin fading to a beautiful glow.

She tried to take a mental snapshot of the
moment to take out when she needed a pick-me-up, concentrating on the taste of
strawberry in her mouth, the aroma of the lubes mingled with the smell of sex,
the hum of her body, the feel of him beneath her fingertips. And the look in
his eyes when she eventually turned her head, filled with warmth and, for want
of a better word, love, or at least a deep affection that gave her goosebumps
and made her want to cry.

He kissed her, then withdrew and disposed
of the condom before taking her in his arms. They lay there in the glow of the
bedside lamp for a while, just relaxing and letting their breathing return to
normal, basking in the afterglow of shared bliss.

Eventually, though, she had to pee, and
extricated herself reluctantly from his arms to visit the bathroom.

When she came out, he’d retrieved a bottle
of water from the minibar and had drunk half of it. He held it out to her, and
she sat on the bed next to him and finished it off, enjoying the slide of the
cool liquid down her throat.

She put the lid on and tossed the bottle
into the bin, and rested her hands on the edge of the mattress, mirroring his
pose.

He bumped shoulders with her. She wrinkled
her nose and bumped him back.

“I’d better go,” he said.

She nodded, having expected that. He met
her gaze, then leaned forward, and they exchanged a long, slow kiss.

Gene moved back, his expression showing his
reluctance, and maybe frustration, too, at having to go. It took every piece of
willpower she had not to beg him to stay.

He got up and started getting dressed,
pulling on his underwear and trousers. “I’ll see you for breakfast?”

“Sure. Seven o’clock?”

“Yes, of course. Early start. See you
then.” He pulled on his waistcoat over his open shirt and put his jacket over
his arm. Then he paused. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy birthday.”

He winked at her. Then he opened the door.
She watched him look outside and scan the corridor before he slipped out,
closing the door behind him.

She sat there for a bit. Then she took his
sweatshirt out of her case and pulled it on. It fell to her hips, the sleeves
falling over her hands. She smiled as she tugged them up to her elbows, walked
over to the window, and leaned against the post.

The sea glistened in the moonlight. If a
boat were to sail in a straight line east from Napier, it would cross six
thousand miles of the South Pacific until it hit the coast of Chile. So much
ocean, vast and dark and deep.

She rested her head on the window, and
sighed.

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

For Gene, the next few days were a blur of
towns and cities and hotels as he escorted Callie to her appointments, while
his evenings followed the pattern of dinner and late walks followed by hours of
sensual delight as they explored each other’s bodies. Every day, Gene tried to
convince himself to stay professional, and every evening his resolution
crumbled at the temptation in Callie’s eyes.

But he never told her he loved her, and he
never stayed the night.

He spent the late hours in his room, going
over the reports from his office and gradually growing more concerned as events
began to escalate. Two more members of the jury that had convicted Darren Kirk
were injured in attacks on their life, and a third was killed, bumping the case
up the STG priority list until it was flagged as a nationwide alert. Reports
came in thick and fast from his crew of repeated sightings of the same men
around Phoebe’s office and home, and she now had two personal protection
officers with her at all time, and another four covert officers working out
threat assessments of places she went and generally trying to keep her safe.

Gene knew that Phoebe had spoken to Callie
about what was happening, but she never mentioned it to him, and so he didn’t
feel that he could ask her what she felt about it all, because he wasn’t
supposed to know. In bed, their intimacy deepened, but outside the hotel room
they only seemed to grow further apart, as what was happening became an
elephant that had not only entered the room but that sat between them on the
table and refused to budge.

He now had Ian, another protection officer,
working covertly, advising him on routes in and out of the hotels, checking out
the stores before Callie went into them, and shadowing them both at a distance
while they drove up to Gisborne, Whakatane, Tauranga, and Hamilton,
occasionally stopping at other smaller towns on the way when Callie discovered
a lingerie store existed there.

Gene worked for hours each night making
sure that Callie could continue her tour and remain as safe as possible while
still being unaware of her protection. It would have been difficult even if
they hadn’t shared a bed, trying to answer phone calls out of her hearing and
scanning shops and streets as unobtrusively as he could while they walked. But
becoming romantically involved made things a hundred times worse, not in the
least because Gene knew he was lying to her.

As they entered the city of Auckland, even
though they were nearing the end of their tour, Gene was beginning to consider
telling her. The night before, in Hamilton, they’d spent hours in bed making
love, lying there talking, then making love again until they were both wrung
out and exhausted. But as usual, he’d had to get up and go to his own room so
he could work, and once again he’d had to cope with the fleeting look of
disappointment on Callie’s face before she smothered it with a smile.

She never asked him why he left, or begged
him to stay, but he knew that every time he walked out, he hurt her, and that
was beginning to be more of a problem than anything else.

Because he was falling for her. He knew
that now. It was too soon to say he loved her. Love was like the plant he’d
once read about that grew in the Bolivian mountains, a bromeliad that took a
long time to grow and bloom. It wasn’t like bamboo—it couldn’t grow overnight.
But being in love—that was something different. And Gene was rapidly coming to
the conclusion that he was falling in love with Callie.

If that was the case, and he wanted to
stand any hope of continuing their relationship once Kirk was caught, how was
he going to explain why he hadn’t told her the truth before now? Telling her
he’d been worried for her safety might sound a great reason in his head, but
for a woman who’d been cheated on and for whom truth and honesty were two of
the most important things in a relationship, keeping the news to himself could possibly
be the worst decision he would ever make.

If he told her, he might risk her life if
she refused to have another personal protection officer, and he told himself
that was the main reason he continued with the ruse. But deep down, he knew he
was scared of losing her, and every day that passed he became more and more
terrified.

For better or for worse, things came to a
head when they reached Auckland. The biggest city in New Zealand, although not
the capital, Auckland was large and sprawling, its oldest park based around an
extinct volcano, its distinctive waterfront and skyline giving it the nickname
‘City of Sails’.

By now it was mid-February, equivalent to
mid-August in the northern hemisphere. The mornings bore a touch of autumn, but
by midday the sun was high and hot, and it was growing increasingly humid this
far north. Gene sweltered in his shirt and waistcoat every day, but there was
no way he could drop the waistcoat, so he just had to put up with it.

After Napier, partly because Callie seemed
to enjoy him being there and partly because of his growing concern, he’d begun
to accompany her into her meetings. She introduced him as her PA, which often
induced jokes and humorous comments from the store managers, but Callie just
let that ride over her, and then she would launch into her spiel.

It was only then that Gene began to realize
why she was so successful at her job. She had a way of putting a person at ease
immediately, and the combination of her professionalism, her friendliness, and
her beauty, he was sure, meant that the majority of times she came away with a
promise to stock the Four Seasons brand and a new friend in the bargain. She
filled out an entry on her phone for every client, noting some personal details
about him or her—for example ‘supports the Blues,’ ‘has a son at Massey
University studying photography,’ or ‘has baby twins, one boy, one girl.’ Gene
knew she’d check these entries before she rang the client when she returned to
Wellington, making the connection with them again when she spoke to them. It
was a simple trick, but a clever one, and it only added to his admiration for
her.

Their first day in Auckland was busy, four
appointments all within three hours across the city, and by the time he reached
the last one at four thirty, Gene was tired, stressed, and slightly irritable.
Thus, when his phone rang halfway through their last appointment, he was
tempted to cancel it, but as he apologized to Callie and the store manager and
pulled out the phone, he saw the name Phoebe Hawke on the screen and knew he
had to take it.

“Excuse me.” He walked out of the office
and along the corridor, letting the door close behind him so he couldn’t be
overheard before answering it. “Hello?”

“Gene?”

“Yes. Hi, Phoebe. Are you okay?”

“Yes. Well, no. I mean, I’m not hurt or
anything.” She sounded flustered, not like the Phoebe he knew at all.”

“Spit it out,” he said wryly. “What’s up?”

“I’ve had another email.”

He frowned, puzzled as to why she’d phoned
him and Kev hadn’t. “When?”

“Ten minutes ago. I’ve forwarded it on to
you.”

“Okay, hold on.” He lowered the phone and
brought up his emails. She forwarded all the threats she received on to his
office, and they’d been trying to track down the origin of the emails, although
the sender had gone to great lengths to hide his tracks.

He brought it up. It was the usual
bullshit, meant to intimidate and induce fear. They never failed to make Gene
angry, but it was the last paragraph that made cold slither through him as if
he’d swallowed an ice cube whole.

Did your daughter enjoy her kingfish
last night? I hope so. Because it might be her last.

The final two sentences went on to describe
what Kirk was going to do to Callie when he finally got his hands on her.

Gene wanted to throw up. The night before,
Callie had indeed eaten kingfish in the hotel restaurant. Kirk—or one of his
men—had been there, unspotted by either Gene or the other PPOs.

“Fuck,” he said.

Normally, Phoebe would have mocked him for
that, but today she just said, “I know,” in a husky voice. “He’s watching you,
Gene. He’s watching my baby. Until now, I haven’t really been scared—I don’t
care what this man says to me, I refuse to be scared for my life, but I am
scared for Callie. I don’t know what I’d do if someone hurt her because of me.”

“They won’t.” His voice was hard as flint.
“That’s what I’m here for.”

“I want to double her cover, Gene. I don’t
care how much it costs. I want at least two people with her at all times, and a
proper team following her.”

Although he knew she was right, his heart
sank. There would be no more creeping into her room at night. “Of course.”

She took a deep breath. “And I want you to
tell her, Gene. I want her to know who you really are.”

He closed his eyes. “But what if she tells
me to go?”

“We’ll deal with that if it happens. I
don’t think she will—up until now she hasn’t taken the threat seriously, but
now we know she’s definitely being followed, I think it will make her think
differently.”

Gene wasn’t so sure, but at least the
decision was made now. He had to tell her. “Okay. I’ll let her know.”

“I’ll call later, once you’ve had a chance
to speak to her and to make the arrangements with your office.”

“Okay. I’ll get some people to fly up
overnight for our last couple of days away. It’ll be easier once we’re back in
Wellington.”

“Thank you, Gene.”

He blew out a long breath. “And how are
you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You know what I’m like. Nobody’s
going to get the better of me.”

His lips twisted wryly. “Yeah. Glad to hear
it.”

“Thank you for taking care of my baby.”

He examined his shoes. “You’re welcome.
She’s a lovely girl.”

“She’s a sweetie. Make sure she stays
safe.”

“I will.”

“I’ll speak to you later.”

He hung up.

For a long moment, he just stood there.
Outside, the sky was heavy and gray, promising rain. There was no air
conditioning in the corridor, and he was already beginning to soak his shirt
with sweat.

He’d been living in a fantasy, caught up in
Callie’s spell, but it was time to return to the real world.
Some things are
more important than sex, Gene!
he scolded himself.

But that filled him with shame. This wasn’t
just about sex. What he had with Callie was more than a series of one-night
stands, and to refer to it like that, even in jest, was doing her a great
disservice.

“Gene?”

He turned to see she’d finished her meeting
and was walking toward him with a smile.

“You okay?” she said, observing him with
her wide blue eyes.

“Fine.” He managed a tight smile. “Sorry
about that. How did you get on?”

“All good. Yet another success for the
Summer School of Charm!” Her cheeks flushed with pleasure, and he felt an ache
begin deep inside him at the thought of the conversation they had to have.

“Shall we go, then?” he asked.

“Please. I’m knackered. I’m desperate for a
shower and something to eat.”

He drove them back to the hotel, with
Callie talking constantly, making it difficult for him to get a word in
edgeways. She continued to talk all the way up to their floor in the elevator,
and was still talking as they reached their room, swiping her card before he
had a chance to say anything. She just managed to promise to meet him for
dinner before the door swung shut.

Gene cursed himself for drawing this out,
but it was too late now. He consoled himself by ringing Kev, discussing the
threatening email, and going through the new plan, organizing to have four more
agents fly up that night. Then he showered and changed into a fresh shirt, put
his waistcoat back on, and was ready to knock on her door at six o’clock. He’d
planned to blurt it out immediately, but she came out looking beautiful, young,
and fresh in cropped jeans and a pretty orange shirt, and somehow the words
wouldn’t come.

And then it was time for dinner, and he
didn’t want to spoil that either, so he bit his tongue, cursing all the while,
and promising himself that he’d tell her as soon as the meal was over.

“Shall we go for a walk?” Callie said once
they’d finished their coffee.

He hesitated. He didn’t want her going
outdoors now unless she had to, but equally it would be easier to tell her when
they were alone rather than in the restaurant, just in case she went ballistic
and made a scene. He couldn’t imagine the calm, good-natured Callie making a
scene, but there was a distinct possibility it wouldn’t end well.

So he said, “Okay,” and they left the
restaurant and walked along the waterfront. At any other time, it would have
been a beautiful evening—it had rained briefly for a while, but the clouds had
cleared, and the evening sun had painted all the boats in shades of orange and
red. But he could take no pleasure from it, his stomach in a knot, sweat breaking
out between his shoulder blades at the thought of what her reaction would be.

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