Red-Hot Honeymoon: The Honeymoon Arrangement / Marriage in Name Only? / The Honeymoon That Wasn't. Debbi Rawlins
wasn’t smudging the line—this was obliterating it. Was she prepared to go there? She had about five seconds either to take this to the next level or to back away.
Callie knew herself well enough to know that she wasn’t going to step away. She was facing a fire and for the first time in, God, so long she was going to jump right in. But this time she was going to be a little wiser and don a fire suit.
‘Finn?’
‘Yeah?’ His voice was husky with desire and so sexy.
‘That thing that happened in the dressing room … thinking about it.’
She knew exactly when he stopped breathing, when he finally sucked in much needed air. ‘Okay. Where are you going with this?’
‘Our room only has one bed, and if I climb into it with you I’m going to be all over you.’
Callie forced herself to walk out of his grip, to pick up the bottle of beer he’d brought with him and take the last sip. To keep herself from jumping him, she held the bottle in a loose grip.
Finn groaned. ‘Good to know. Want to get going, then?’
She smiled at the hopeful note in his voice before quietly murmuring, ‘Holiday romances seldom work out.’
‘That’s what I’ve heard.’
‘People tend to put on rose-coloured glasses and, because they know their time together is short, the experience can be intense, powerful.’
‘I guess.’
Callie rolled the bottle between her palms. ‘I’m at a bit of a crossroads in my life and I’m questioning so much. I’m not thinking as straight as I usually do, so don’t let me get forget that this is a couple of weeks of pure fun, okay? Don’t let me get seduced by the luxury and the romance and the fact that I like you.’
That was the line in the sand, she decided. They could chat and talk, share confidences and make incredible love, but she had to remember that this was going to end. It was too easy to forget who they were and why they were here. It was not real life. They were on a fake honeymoon—emphasis on the fake—surrounded by romance and luxury. She could easily get swept away and inadvertently slip on a pair of those rose-coloured glasses.
They were two strangers who hardly knew each other—not a couple on their honeymoon. They could have fun, even sex, but they had to keep it real. She wasn’t in a place to consider a relationship beyond the three weeks. Sure, it would be easy to fall for Finn, but it wouldn’t last because it wasn’t based on anything real.
She—they—had to keep their eyes open, their heads in the game. If she had sex with him she would finally know how he felt, tasted, moved. and then she could stop thinking about him—and sex—all the damn time.
Callie turned her head and sent him a direct look. ‘We’re on the same page?’
He rubbed his hand over his jaw before nodding briskly. ‘Yeah. Just to be clear, are you saying that you’ll sleep with me?’
The tip of her tongue touched her top lip and her skin flushed with anticipated pleasure. Yeah, that was the plan. Callie held his eyes.
‘Well, sleep isn’t what we’ll be doing, exactly.’ He made a move towards her but her lifted hand stopped him in his tracks. ‘I don’t want to be seduced, Finn.’
She saw a moment of confusion and then his face cleared. ‘No hearts and flowers, no expectations.’
How did he seem to know without her having to explain? It was unsettling, but reassuring at the same time.
Finn touched her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. ‘Only in my bed, honey. I promise. Sex is on the table—everything else is off it.’
They could do this, Callie thought as they made their way out of the hide and across the lawns to their new room behind the main lodge. If they were smart and sensible, and if they kept their heads, they could have three weeks of fun and walk away unscathed.
They had to do this, Callie amended as Finn took her hand in his. They didn’t have another option.
In their private chalet within the protected grounds of the lodge Finn took her hand and led her out onto a dark, private veranda, where moonlight glistened off the bubbles created by the hot tub that sat in one corner. Callie watched his face as he reached behind her and slid down the zip of her simple A-line dress, pulling the collar away from her neck and allowing the silky sage-green fabric to fall to the wooden deck. She stood in her violet strapless bra and matching panties, open to his appreciative gaze, watching his eyes as one index finger traced her collarbone, her shoulder, the top of her right breast.
He looked entranced, engrossed, fully involved in touching her, learning her shape, making her a memory. Don’t get fanciful, she warned herself, closing her eyes as his finger touched her nipple and it tightened and peaked immediately.
‘This is about sex, about pleasure, about a three-week affair,’ Callie gabbled, closing her eyes at the intense pleasure his touch aroused in her.
‘Shut up, Callie,’ Finn murmured gently.
You’ve had these before, remember? she told herself. You sleep with him until it stops being fun and then you stop. It’s not rocket science.
Except that Finn touching her didn’t feel like just another sex act, just another pursuit of physical pleasure. It felt like something more. Deeper, more important.
Finn’s mouth brushed her ear. ‘Stop thinking,’ he muttered. ‘Just feel me touching you, enjoying your smooth skin, tasting you, smelling you. You do the same to me.’
His breath tickled her cheek and the touch of his finger on her skin had heat pooling between her thighs, causing a rush of moisture to her panties. He had barely even started and she was already ready for him to take her—right now. Oh, this was going to be amazing, incredible …
‘I think you should kiss me,’ Callie said against his cheekbone.
‘I think I’ll go up like a cracker,’ was Finn’s wry reply.
Callie dropped her gaze to his pants and sucked in her breath. Unable to stop herself, she ran her finger down the long, rock-hard length of him.
Finn grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away. ‘Yeah, also not a good idea.’
‘I need you to—’
‘Honey, I know exactly what you need.’ Finn lifted his hand and tipped her chin up. Their eyes slammed together and held. ‘Trust me to take care of you.’
‘I do …’
‘You sure?’
‘If you can make me forget who I am in a semi-public dressing room, I have no doubt that you can do it now.’
Finn waited a beat before he shot his arm out, encircled her hips and slammed her into him. As her mound made contact with his erection his tongue swept into her mouth. He tasted and tormented her, swirling her away on a whirlpool of pleasure. His hand slid into the back of her panties and he palmed her butt with his broad hands, dipping lower, stretching the silk over his wrists so that he could touch her inner thighs and explore her feminine folds.
Callie shuddered as she fumbled for the buttons on his shirt, ripping off the last one in her haste to feel his broad chest and his hard, ribbed stomach.
‘Want you … want you … want you …’ she chanted, standing on her tiptoes to nibble his jaw, to swirl her tongue down his neck.
Finn pulled his hands out from her panties and with one deft flick her bra fell between them. Callie couldn’t have cared less; her nipples were rubbing through the hair on his chest and if he didn’t touch her soon, in all those important burning places, she was going to scream.
Loudly.
Unable