A Twist of Fate (12 page)

At last we were off air. I breathed an audible sigh of relief. After our mics had been taken off us and we'd been thanked, we were told we could help ourselves to refreshments in a waiting room before we left.

I wasn't intending to. I hung around in the corridor, clutching one arm with the other. Paul hovered beside me, his hands deep in his pockets.

‘Thanks for doing that,' I smiled. ‘I think we kept them happy.'

‘They ask a lot of questions, don't they?'

‘It's their job.'

I could smell him. He was clean and bright now. The light aroma of washing powder hung about him, but underneath he still smelt of that raw man I'd fallen into on the beach. It made my head swim. He was so solid, so close that I wondered if I could melt into him. I wanted to.

‘Paul …' I murmured, just a thought aloud, consumed by him.

I had to move. I had to go. I turned away. He caught my arm, surprisingly hard, closing his fingers strongly about my wrist. We'd make a scene. I pulled, drawing him with me into the room we'd been given. He shut the door behind us, locking it. I was against the wall. He was there in front of me, looking down, his breathing heavy through his nose, his gaze casting over me.

‘You know it's all bullshit, Callie, all that crap you spout about us being incompatible. Who're you kidding? You know we work better than anything, we would anywhere. Can't stop thinking about you, can't stop wanting you. Tell me you don't feel the same.'

I could have gone. I could have run. He wasn't blocking me in, just standing close enough to dominate my every sense. And it was wonderful. I closed my eyes to it, but he was still in my hearing and scent. If I lifted my hand, I'd feel him; if I opened my mouth I could taste him.

‘No, please …'

‘You're only pleading with yourself, Callie. You're pleading to convince yourself of a lie. Christ, it was hell sitting on that sofa with you. I wanted you then. I wanted to take you right then.'

‘Stop this. It's not supposed to be like this.'

His voice was low and gravelly, but his words came with the intensity of a dying man. ‘Shut up with that! Who gives a fuck what it's supposed to be like? Who cares if we came together through the freakiest fucking thing ever? Perhaps it were all planned. Perhaps it was meant to be. Thrown together through fate. You never thought like that?'

I nodded timorously.

‘Yes, Callie, yes. You and me, we think the same. We may talk different and dress different, but we're the same; survivors. Life – take it, Cal, take it.'

He was right there, his breath warming me, his body overwhelming me. Again, I wasn't threatened, only enrapt. I enclosed my hand in a fist, intent on pushing him away, but as soon as I came into contact with that indomitable torso, there was no way back. My fist opened into a palm and I pressed it hard onto him. His heart thudded relentlessly under my fingers. I met his eyes and I was lost. But it was me who launched it, me who curled my hand around his neck, me who pulled him down so that our mouths met so hard it robbed us both of breath, me who curled my leg around his and locked him to me.

But once I gave to him, he took. Oh God, he took.

He kissed me so brutally it could barely be called a kiss, and it was glorious. My mouth was pushed open and we kissed like we were trying to disappear into each other. He held my head for a time, pulling me toward him, not letting me get away. His lips were searching and determined, his teeth rasped, so violent was our need, as if our survival depended on being joined. But then his hands left my skin and were at my shirt. He struggled to undo my buttons and eventually gave up. I was more successful with his flies and pushed down his trousers and boxers. His cock lurched high, almost screaming with relief, searching me out. A laugh of delight escaped me. He hoisted my skirt up round my waist and tore at my tights – they were in shreds after.

Words disappeared; we acted only on instinct. Paul pushed me back against the wall, wedging me between it and him. I wrapped my right leg around his thigh and he grabbed my backside, lifting me fully off the ground. My back pushed into the wall and my bottom jutted out towards him. He was so strong he could move me right where he needed with one hand while the other guided his cock. And – there! He was in me again.
Oh God, at last
. Oh God, full again, full of him. I threw my head back, my eyes closed for a minute as I absorbed that feeling: Paul inside me, Paul filling me.

He grunted, a harsh grunt confirming his emplacement inside me. Twining my legs about his waist, I locked them at the ankles and wrapped my arms about his neck, binding us together.

He started to move, withdrawing as much as possible before powering back in, right to the hilt, pushing his cock so deep I was pinned to the wall. Rock solid, rock steady. He pistoned in and out, regular plunging thrusts which pushed through my welcoming flesh over and over. I looked into him. His eyes were brighter than ever, alight with his own wonder.

He took a step back, carrying me with him, still impaled, wrapped around him, clinging to him. My full weight rested on his cock and hands. We couldn't be closer.

‘I've got you,' he rumbled before stumbling over to a desk. I fell back onto it and stretched out, imploring him to fuck me.

Paul pushed my knees back, exposing me fully for him and pulled out. I missed him immediately and mewled in grief, but he acted swiftly, kneeling between my legs and planting his mouth right over my needy sex.

He sucked like a man denied nourishment. He licked, long quenching laves, drinking in my undiluted lust. I held his head there, working him on me, pushing into him, using his mouth to fuck me. I felt fingers squeezing into me and I clamped on them. His tongue circled and rubbed my clit so hard it almost screamed, but it was powerless against the onslaught of sexual desperation. When he attached his mouth again and sucked, I came, suddenly and completely. I sat up with the force of it and a hand was clamped over my mouth, muffling my cry of rapture. As soon as my pleasure had faded, he was back, pinning back my knees and plunging inside me with a groan so deep I almost came again. After my first orgasm, I was tighter than ever and gripped him hard. His face contorted with the extreme pleasure I gave his cock.

‘Fuck! Fuck, Callie!' he hissed before ploughing into me again, long, as deep as he could, right through, right into me.

He pinned me on the desk, his groans and grunts unstoppable now. If he'd wanted to silence me, he was failing to stop himself. I loved his noises as much as I loved his body and his cock. I'd never known a man so at ease with his own raw being.

I'd come again. God, I usually only came once, but with Paul my body gave and gave. It was ready and it was deep, propelled from my G-spot this time, which had been coaxed to attention.

‘Oh God, again!' I wailed, and he picked up his pace, wanting to come in me at the same time. We locked eyes. He snapped his hips, profound and desperate, and then, as my mouth opened in silent wonder and I moaned out my second orgasm, he burst into me. Each spurt of come was accompanied by those wonderful sounds of undoing. His climax seemed to go on; time after time he pulsed within me, each throb tangible and real. Pleasure rippled through me to match and meet it.

Somewhere in the thick air of conjoining, it finished. Our bodies came down, still together, still bound. How could we not be now? I couldn't imagine him withdrawing from me ever.

He leaned over me, his hair hanging down, his eyes closed as he drew in deep breaths. I could feel his cock, still hard, still embedded.
Don't go. Don't ever go.

At length he dragged open his eyes, the lids heavy with satiation. ‘You all right?'

I nodded. I wasn't sure words would come out anymore. I was just a big ball of perfect sex.

He leant over and kissed me, slow, touching, and intimate. I held his head gently and gave him my kiss back.

‘Don't want to come out of you, Callie. I've got you, you know that, don't you?'

I hummed in agreement. ‘Don't come out of me, please don't.'

He chuckled a little and pushed against me. His cock remained admirably firm. ‘So warm, my beautiful girl, so incredibly warm and tight. This is where I belong.'

I nodded. ‘So, what now?' I asked with a lazy smile.

‘We stay like this forever.'

‘Someone may want a coffee at some point.'

‘Screw 'em. We can't leave each other. They'll have to work around our copulating bodies.'

I laughed and it pushed him out a little. So slowly, gently, he pulled out of me, and I was empty again. I could feel him leaking from me and I clamped my legs shut, not wanting to lose a drop of him.

Paul looked around. ‘Shit. Surprised no one wanted in.' He tucked himself away and did up his flies before handing me some tissues. ‘Better sort ourselves out.'

‘This rather defeats what we said in the interview.'

He glanced at me. ‘Not wise to tell 'em though, eh? I knew you didn't want to, and I agree. Life's tricky enough as it is at the minute.'

I shook my head. For once we agreed completely. ‘No. Our little secret.'

He came up to me and kissed me deep again. ‘Dirty little secret?'

‘Oh yes. I can be dirty when I choose to be, Mr Mason. And, trust me, you help immensely.'

‘You just proved that. Why don't you come to mine tonight and show me just how dirty you can be all over again?'

‘Uh huh …' I teased, pulling back, opening my mouth for him yet denying him, teasingly tripping my tongue for him.

‘Callie,' he groaned, reaching for me. I leaned right back with a laugh. ‘Thank fuck for you, Callie. I found you. I fuckin' found you.'

Another kiss. How could we stop kissing?

‘Shit. Look, come on, this is crazy. Where the hell are we anyway?'

Fourteen

At last I slid off the desk and adjusted my clothing. Paul walked over to unlock the door then cleaned the desk down thoroughly. ‘Don't want to leave any incriminating evidence.'

Just at that moment, Dawn came in. She didn't knock. I was beginning to see the charming TV personality hid a tough, cold determination.

‘Hi, you two. All OK? Thanks for today. We're getting a great response. You've set Twitter on fire.'

‘Ah, well, that's it now. Back to normal,' Paul said.

She gave a little laugh. ‘It might not be like that for some time, I'm afraid. Once the British public get their claws into you, they'll want to play with you for a while.'

She looked straight at Paul when she said ‘play with you' and gave him a blatantly seductive smile. After all that had just happened, it only made me stifle a laugh.

Paul responded by extending his hand. ‘I reckon we should be off now. Thanks for having us.' I loved his bluff directness and tried to hide my grin as I crossed to the water dispenser.

‘Here's my card,' I heard Dawn croon. ‘We know how to get hold of you if we need to, don't we?'

‘I suppose so.'

My ears burned but I played it cool by keeping my back turned and sipping the water.

‘Really lovely to meet you, Paul. If you ever need anything, do get in touch.' She almost licked him with her voice. Then, with a sudden switch to cat-like dismissal, ‘Bye, Caroline.' At last she left.

‘Bloody TV types,' sighed Paul.

‘They'd get to us somehow. It's better to play along and try to retain some control.'

‘Aye, you're right.'

‘Like she said, I'm not sure they're done with us yet. We might have to do a few more.'

He cocked an eyebrow. ‘I said just the one, Cal.'

‘I know but, in all seriousness, it's difficult. They're going to want more. We could do a couple and then they'll move onto something else.'

‘I'm just not doing
Hello!
magazine. I don't think me posing in my Battersea flat is going to shift copies anyway.'

‘Battersea, is it? I don't even know where you live.'

He glanced around before pulling me close. ‘You will tonight. You say you can be dirty? I can be bloody filthy.'

Another kiss. Luckily we were far enough away from the open door. My insides did that little flippy dance again. ‘Want you.'

‘You've just had me.'

‘Can't stop wanting you.'

He planted a final kiss on my lips then pulled back. ‘Do you want me to come and get you?'

‘No, I'll make my way over. What time?'

‘Seven? I'll rustle up some food.'

‘You don't have to.'

‘No, I'd like to.'

‘All right, thanks.' I got out my phone. ‘What's your address?'

He told me. Shit. Had I actually stopped to think what I was doing? After all I'd tried to do to avoid this. I'd just veered off the A road spectacularly and was careening down unknown lanes with many blind corners. Still, the view was very, very nice.

‘Don't you have photographers camped outside like me?' I asked.

‘That's a thought. May have one or two, especially after today. Go round the back. I'll send you a text with directions. They won't see you that way.'

‘All right. Umm … bye then.'

‘Bye.'

‘This is weird.'

‘Why? Everything's weird to you, Cal. What's wrong now?'

‘I just … it's not really a normal relationship. We meet because we're the only survivors of a plane crash. We spend time shipwrecked on an island, we do press interviews, and now we have to avoid paparazzi.'

‘It's working though, Cal. That's all you have to tell yourself.'

I smiled. It's working. If he said so.

He leant down, kissed me again, then smiling his gorgeous lopsided smile, left me there.

I headed home. It wasn't long before my phone rang. Rupert.

‘Hi.'

‘Hello, darling.'

‘Just Callie, please.'