"You're also the wildest," he says between kisses. "And the sexiest. And the most utterly intoxicating…”
His words make the blood rush beneath my skin. I don't know how much longer I can hold back. I begin to lower myself again slowly, but every touch of Calder's fingers and lips makes it that much more difficult to maintain this measured pace.
"Fuck, Lily," he says. "You're killing me." This time he thrusts upward, burying himself in me before I have the chance to stop him.
And that’s it.
I begin to move against him, hard and fast, and he moans and echoes my movements, rising to meet me with his body. My fingers dig in his shoulders, and I throw my head back, letting the rain fall down on my face as I ride him like I've never ridden a man before. Every jerk of my body wrings a grunt from his throat, and I'm matching his sounds of pleasure with cries of my own. I feel like a wild woman, a crazed, sexual being who only wants one thing and will do anything to get it.
We grind against each other until I know nothing but the heat and friction and pleasure. There's just me and his hands and his cock and his hot mouth moving across my exposed throat. He bites down on the tender flesh, and I cry out and move faster against him.
My inner walls are starting to contract. Calder seems to notice, because he groans and thrusts more violently against me. I'm close to climaxing again but I want him to explode first.
The next time he thrusts, I stop moving. Instead, I squeeze the muscles between my legs, tightening myself around him.
He growls.
I squeeze them again, and again, and the third time he gives another quick thrust before going rigid. Feeling him come beneath me sends me over the edge myself, and I cry out as I join him on the rippling waves of orgasm.
When the pleasure ends, I collapse against him.
"Well," Calder murmurs in my ear after a moment. His voice is rough. "I think I’m going to like this ‘just fucking’ arrangement very much."
I know that I was the one who brought it up in the first place, but something twists a little in my stomach at his words. I'm not sure what's going on with me right now, but every sexual encounter with this man only seems to leave me more confused. At first, I clung to my hatred and told myself that my lust was only an unfortunate complication of the situation. But the more I indulge my desires with Calder, the more I find myself drawn to the man himself. I’ve caught glimpses of his own pain and frustration, and every time he holds me close like this and whispers sweet things in my ear, I find myself wishing I knew more of him. There’s a softness to him, but it’s hidden behind some emotions that I can’t even begin to decipher.
But even though I’m starting to recognize my own feelings, I know they’re wrong. This man is responsible for the Center’s financial troubles. It doesn’t matter what’s happened between us this weekend—I can’t forgive him for that.
I close my eyes and rest my forehead on his shoulder. I don’t even try to respond to his last statement. I know I’ll never find the words.
Instead, I try to focus on the cold of the rain on my back and try to ignore the cold that's taken root in my belly.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
By the time I wake up the next morning, the rain has stopped. Somehow we managed to stumble back to the bed after our romp on the balcony, but my hair is still wet, making me shiver as I climb out of the sheets. I grab my shirt and pull it over my head as I go to inspect the sliver of sunlight coming in around the curtain. I push the thick fabric aside and peer out through the window. Sure enough, the sky is clear. I can even hear birds singing.
I turn back toward the bed. Calder is still asleep, looking deliciously rumpled in the early light. The covers have fallen back, revealing his naked torso, and my mind floods with a dozen wicked ways I might wake him.
But then I remember how we left things last night, how he’d agreed that we were “just fucking.” I'm still not sure why I'm suddenly having this twisted emotional reaction to him, but one thing's for certain: touching him again is a bad idea. I've indulged myself enough. I've had my little sexual fantasy weekend, and now it's time to return to the real world.
I grab my clothes from the floor and pull them on as quietly as possible. I manage to sneak all the way to the door before Calder stirs.
"Lily?" he says, still half asleep.
I'm tempted to make a run for it, but Calder seems to realize what's going on right as my fingers touch the handle.
"Where are you going?" He sits up and eyes me warily. "Are you leaving?"
I try not to notice the sexy way that lock of dark hair falls across his forehead.
"It's stopped raining," I say.
"So?" He blinks and rubs some of the sleep from his eyes.
"The road should be clear," I remind him. "I need to get back. They need me at the Center."
I watch comprehension sink in on his face.
"It's stopped raining," he says quickly, "but the road won't be clear yet. I bet it'll be another day before the water goes down enough for you to get through."
This knowledge hits me like a punch to the stomach. I hadn't even considered that possibility.
"I know it's a pain in the ass," he says, climbing out of bed. "But I can think of several fun ways we might pass the time." One look at his naked body as he stands up makes his meaning quite clear. I quickly glance away.
"I'm not—I don't think that's the best idea. We've had some fun, but let's be realistic about this whole situation. Spending a couple of days holed up pretending the rest of the world doesn't exist is fine, but at some point we have to wake up and start living like normal people again."
I can feel his eyes boring into me, but I refuse to look up.
"Very well," he says after a moment. "If that's what you want." I can't tell from his tone whether he's angry or disappointed or even if he cares at all. He turns and walks casually over to the closet, disappearing inside without another word.
I'm not sure what to do. Am I dismissed? Should I go back to my room? I need to call my dad again and let him know I'll be here yet another night. I hope he hasn't buried himself under an insane pile of work. I hope Garrett isn't causing him any trouble.
I've just decided to leave when Calder steps out of the closet, a towel around his waist. For all that he's covered now, the image still doesn't leave much to the imagination. I force myself to look him in the eye.
"I was thinking," he says, "that we might take advantage of the sun and have a look around the gardens. You seemed interested in them the other day."