We shifted onto our sides, facing each other, still touching. My cock stayed inside her, still half hard, wondering if there was a possibility of another round.
Small touches, grazes with finger tips, the dance of two people who were unsure about writing their names on each other’s bodies so were testing. Testing for a response, a gage.
How far can I push you?
How hard can I hold you?
How much can I need you before you walk away?
“Just one night.” Her words were whispered.
“Better make the most of it then.” I pushed anything I was feeling back into a box; sealed it. Locked it away.
Nothing good came of needing someone.
Wren
“Let me stitch this and we’re done.” I focused on the animal, the infection cleaned out of its side. It was an African wild dog, beautiful and feral, and it had been fighting with something and lost. What I was doing would ensure he would have a good few more fights in him, if that was his nature, because he was going to wake up and be absolutely fine.
“Thank you for being here.” Lynda had started to tidy up around us, the dog the final animal we were seeing today, and for me, here. Tomorrow we flew to Marrakesh, staying there for the next ten days, a couple at the start to recalibrate, five for more filming with Jaime heading out into the desert and me and Callum working at a charity for working animals, including the donkeys that were part of the culture in the Red City.
“It’s been good. I’ve loved it.” I had. I didn’t really want to leave. This place felt like home and I got why Lynda had stayed out here and founded Live Free.
“You can always come back. The lodges are there for volunteers and I may have a paid position available in another few months.”
I felt pride at the offer as well as heartache. I knew that after we’d finished filming the second section, I’d need to find something permanent or a lengthy fixed-term contract. I had to get some financial stability in place to help my mum out and a paid position out here was likely to be less than any minimum wage.
“Thank you. I’d love to do another volunteering stint soon.”
Lynda smiled. She would understand. “Callum said the same. You could come together.”
Come together. The phrase had a totally different meaning after that night. That one night.
I slept in Callum’s bed, tangled up in his arms, against the hard muscle of his chest that I memorised with my hands and tongue. We fought for dominance, battled for control until one of us submitted and lay on our backs like a dog wanting its belly tickling.
By morning, I was sore and stiff, smelling of sweat and sex and needing a shower and potentially therapy. Callum’s skills in bed – or most of it – had been legendary at university. He’d been spoken out in hushed tones, my hall mates describing how he knew what he was doing, how he could find spots no other man had been able to reach and have their bodies convulsing in orgasms they didn’t know were possible.
While I’d been with Jonah, I’d laughed, finding it weird if not a little embarrassing to have my friend described in great detail as to what his cock had done. Whatever else I was, I was faithful and totally, utterly in love with Jonah.
Callum had taken one night to ruin me. He was that mythical creature, a man who understood that pleasure was best when it was shared, neither putting his own enjoyment before mine, or taking too much too quickly. He’d known how to demand more of my body and when to let me have his, including tying him up on the bed and tormenting him with my mouth on his dick. Then he’d turned me over and spanked my ass. When I thought about it, I could still feel where his hand had swatted my skin. I wanted to feel it.
But I hadn’t, because it had only been one night.
Unlike after the kiss, he hadn’t kept his distance. We’d talked. His parents, Max, Seph, Claire’s pregnancy, his nephew and niece, his work at the zoo, my mum, Marie’s health, it had all been there for discussion.
We didn’t talk about that night.
“How are you and Callum? I know you’re thinking about him when you get this certain look.” Lynda offered me the bin to throw away my surgical gloves.
I’d told her an outline of what happened with me and Callum, missing out the multiple orgasms, reverse cowgirl and the bite mark that still hadn’t faded on my butt.
“We’re getting along well.”
“What happens when you get home?”
I shrugged, checking the dog over again with my eyes. He was going to be fine. “I’m working as a locum for a few weeks until we head back out again.”
“I meant with you and Callum.”
