Authors: Natasha Rostova
The Naked Truth (24 page)
Callie didn’t stop to think; she flowed with the movement, entranced by the dynamism around her and the rhythm of Abiona’s body so close to hers. Faces and bodies blurred and whipped together, firelight crackling over sweat-dampened skin. A tornado of movement as even the air lit with eroticism and the spirit of possession.
The drums ceased so quickly that Callie barely had time to react. She felt Abiona’s hand steady her by the elbow. Callie stared at the other woman, her breathing harsh and her mind spinning.
‘Rest for a moment, Callie.’
Callie nodded and returned to Tess and Adam, sinking down into her place as she fought to catch her breath. Adam leaned across Tess to hand Callie a white handkerchief.
‘Thanks, Adam.’ Sweat dripped from Callie’s forehead, and she patted her skin with the handkerchief.
‘You were . . . wow, you were good,’ Adam said admiringly.
‘Do you feel OK?’ Tess asked.
Callie’s heart thudded like the beating of a hummingbird’s wings and her blood felt like fire. She couldn’t seem to grasp a coherent thought. Shakily, she stood and stepped out of the peristyle on to the sand of the beach.
‘Yes . . . I just . . . I need water.’
‘I’ll get it for you,’ Tess said quickly.
‘No. I want some air.’ Callie took a breath and made her way over to the food area. She found a bottle of water in an ice-filled bucket and twisted off the cap. After drinking half the bottle in three large gulps, she started to feel a bit better. Slowly, she walked down to the edge of the ocean and drew in a deep breath of salty air. Away from the hot torches and the noise, her body and mind began to calm somewhat, but a flickering energy continued to stir in her. She turned and looked back towards the peristyle as the drumbeat started up again. How incredible that these people could lose themselves to a force much greater than themselves.
Callie made her way back to the peristyle, her feet sinking into the cool sand. She was oddly reluctant to return to the intensity of the ritual, so she paused near a tree and leant her shoulder against the trunk. She could see the dancing begin again, but it was a relief to watch from a distance. Amidst the newly energised, writhing bodies, Abiona suddenly leapt out from the crowd and began a fierce undulation, her hips twisting and breasts swaying. Callie knew instinctively that the
loa
had come down to mount the beautiful woman. Abiona reached out to touch several of the other participants, her eyes so wide that the entire whites were visible. She lurched wildly from one to the other like a spinning top, her body in a symphony of constant movement.
loa
had come down to mount the beautiful woman. Abiona reached out to touch several of the other participants, her eyes so wide that the entire whites were visible. She lurched wildly from one to the other like a spinning top, her body in a symphony of constant movement.
Callie wrapped one arm around the tree branch as she watched the whirling, impassioned bodies. She was intensely aware of her own being, the rapid beating of her heart, the sound of her breath and the damp heat of her skin. Never before had she been so painfully alive and human.
Suddenly, a male hand slipped around her waist with such swiftness that Callie had no time to react. She started in surprise for an instant before she recognised the touch as belonging to her husband.
Callie drew in a breath as Logan’s body came up behind her. His hand splayed flat across her abdomen, but he didn’t force her back against him.
‘You’re not . . .’ Callie’s voice faltered. She swallowed and tried again. ‘You didn’t follow me here?’
‘What do you think?’ His deep voice sounded ghostly on the undulating night air.
Callie closed her eyes. She experienced an insane desire to ask him where he had been for the last week, which was ridiculous, considering she wasn’t supposed to care. Logan’s hand slipped a bit lower to the gentle swell of her stomach. His thighs pressed against her buttocks. She could feel his breath stirring her hair. Images of that night a few weeks ago swam behind her eyelids: her splayed over the counter, him pounding into her from behind, gasps and whimpers, cold glass and hot flesh.
‘Why?’ she asked.
‘Curiosity.’
Callie waited for Logan to tell her in a voice edged with disapproval exactly what he thought of her attending a voodoo ceremony. To her surprise, he didn’t chastise her. Instead, his next question was low and merely curious.
‘Why this?’ he asked. His other hand snaked around her waist.
‘I-I was trying to get you out of my life.’
‘It didn’t work.’ Logan’s fingertips slid into the elastic waistband of Callie’s skirt.
‘I’ve discovered that.’ Callie opened her eyes and stared at the scene at the peristyle. Abiona was still dancing in wild, frenzied movements, urged on by the beat of the drums and the rhythmic sound of clapping and chanting. Her movements were overtly sexual, her hips thrusting back and forth and her breasts swaying.
Logan’s head lifted from Callie’s neck as he looked towards the peristyle. ‘She’s your priestess, isn’t she?’
‘Her name is Abiona. Right now, she’s possessed by a
loa
, which is a spirit.’
loa
, which is a spirit.’
‘She’s quite striking.’
‘I know.’
Logan’s fingers moved further down. Some dim part of Callie’s mind told her she shouldn’t let him do this, but she couldn’t find it in her to push him away. Quite the contrary, in fact. She welcomed the heat of his body against hers, the touch of his fingers on her moist skin. She closed her eyes again and took another drink of water. Christ, it was hot. Not even the ocean breeze cooled her. The tempo of the dance continued to pound in her blood.
Logan splayed his hand over the soft skin of her belly, edging downwards to her pussy. His other hand pushed her hair away from her neck. Callie shivered when his lips touched the nape of her neck. He had never kissed her there before now. She eased herself back slightly and felt his erection pushing against her. Arousal spread through her like a skein of unravelling yarn. Logan’s fingers reached her clit, massaging the creamy button with an increasing roughness. Callie moaned and pressed his hand even harder against her. Her sex was already wet from arousal and exertion, so Logan easily stimulated the sensitive nerves even further. Just as Callie’s excitement began to augment, he pulled his hand away from her and reached up to cup her breasts.
‘No bra, hmm?’ he murmured. His fingers circled her nipples, plucking and pulling them until a waterfall of shivers rained down Callie’s spine. She tensed slightly as she waited for him to tell her she was being indecent, but he didn’t. Instead, he seemed to take great pleasure in fondling her unfettered breasts. He touched the small bag around her neck.
‘What’s this?’ he asked.
Callie couldn’t help chuckling. ‘It’s called a
mojo
bag. It’s supposed to protect me from you.’
mojo
bag. It’s supposed to protect me from you.’
‘Hmm. It’s not working either.’
‘I noticed that, too.’
‘I saw you dancing,’ Logan said. His tongue flicked out to touch her neck.
‘Did you?’
‘You reminded me of a whirling dervish.’
Callie could hardly believe he wasn’t criticising her actions. ‘It was amazing. I didn’t even feel like myself.’
‘You looked pretty incredible, calla lily.’
His use of the endearment went straight to her heart. It had been one of his few displays of affection for her. Slowly, she opened her eyes and turned to look at him. His features were mapped with firelight and shadows, his expression the same stoic one she had seen so often before. But this time, there was something different in his eyes, something Callie didn’t even recognise. Was it pain? Or desperation? For what? For
her
?
her
?
She reached up and put her trembling fingers against his mouth. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that he couldn’t do this, that she still wasn’t coming home, but then he took one of her fingertips between his lips. Callie stared at him, stunned by the teasingly erotic touch. She pressed her thighs together as her pussy quivered in response. The beat of the ritual drums sounded endless, running together in a never-ending throb that echoed inside her head.
She knew that Logan felt it, too. His muscles were rigid, his cock straining against the front of his jeans. He gazed at her, the burnt darkness of his eyes seeing right through her. Callie shed any pretence of resistance as every last one of her senses demanded that she wanted him. With a moan of surrender, she dropped her hands to the fly of his jeans as his mouth descended on hers. Oh God, he had never kissed her like this before. His lips were rough and demanding, his tongue driving into her mouth as if he were claiming some part of her. Callie’s gasp was lost in the depths of his mouth. Her fingers worked frantically to unfasten his jeans as the world of drums and chanting faded into the distance, leaving only the pounding of hearts and the rhythm of breath.
Working quickly, Logan undid the buttons of her blouse and bared her breasts to the sea air. To Callie’s further surprise, he went down on his knees in front of her to pull her skirt over her hips. She hadn’t bothered with knickers, either. Logan pressed his hands between her thighs to spread them apart. Callie gave a choked gasp when he plunged his tongue into her pussy. Where had he learned to do this so expertly? She’d only ever experienced his brand of restraint when it came to sex. Her hands tightened on his hair as he worked her to orgasm, sucking and licking until Callie could stand it no longer. Tension exploded in her body, causing her to cry out and grasp on to the tree trunk for support. Logan wrapped his arm around her thighs to steady her, his tongue flickering over her clit before he pulled away.
Shaken, Callie stared down at him. The burn in his eyes scorched her. She sank to her knees next to him, desperate to get his clothes off and take his warm flesh in her hand. She tore at his shirt and jeans until she could touch his body, sliding her palms over every muscle, stroking his cock, feeling the roughness of his hair and the heat of his skin. It was like learning about her own husband for the first time.
Logan gripped her around the waist, his breath hard against her forehead as he lowered her to the ground and took her. Callie parted her legs and reached for him, her blood simmering with heat and a new-found awe at the man in front of her. Sweat glistened on his forehead and his jaw clenched as his cock pressed against her. He bent his head to suck on her nipples, creating little paths of electricity directly to her pussy. She drove her hands into his hair. She was wholly submerged in the friction of their bodies and the weight of him on top of her. With a groan, Logan thrust into her creamy slit. Callie gave a cry as he plunged into her, wrapping her legs around his thighs, her hips bucking upwards to match his movements.
Now the drumbeats were the echo – the echo of carnal thrusting and guttural noises. The slick slide of Logan’s body against hers filled Callie’s senses. His harsh breaths mingled with her own and then, right as she stood poised on the edge of the cliff, his mouth came down on hers, his tongue invading her. Full of him, surrounded by him, Callie clutched Logan against her and came with a furious series of shudders. He thrust into her violently, groaning against her mouth as he collapsed on top of her.
Callie drew in a long breath as their bodies began to relax. She stroked her hands over Logan’s back. He eased away from her slowly, rolling on to his back beside her. After a moment, Callie turned on her side and propped her head on her hand. She looked at her husband, examining the austere planes of his face and the coarse texture of his dark hair. He had always been such a mystery to her. People weren’t born with disapproval and rigid self-control. So what was it that made Logan the type of man he had become? Or used to be? For a moment, she found it difficult to recognise the Logan she thought she knew.
He opened his eyes and met her curious gaze. For a long minute, they laid there staring at each other as if they had never even met before now. Callie reached out a tentative hand and placed it on his chest. Previously, Logan would always brush her touches aside, never seeming to want too much intimacy. This time, he didn’t. He merely lay there looking at her as Callie twined her fingers through his damp chest hair and rubbed the muscles of his abdomen.
‘I’m still not coming home, Logan,’ Callie whispered. An odd pain began to take the place of her exhilaration.
His mouth tightened. ‘I didn’t fuck you just to convince you to come home.’
‘I know.’
‘However, if you would bother thinking about it, you might realise that coming home might change things.’
‘How can it change things when you don’t even realise what was wrong in the first place?’
‘And you think being apart will help?’
‘I don’t know.’
Logan sat up, and Callie’s hand fell away from him. She knew that somehow he had just shut himself off from her again. He pulled his jeans over his hips. Callie reached for her skirt and blouse. She wanted to say something more to him, but what was there to say? If anything had changed between them, she didn’t know what it was.
‘Logan –’ Callie reached out and put her hand on his arm.
He dragged a hand through his rumpled hair and looked at her. ‘Forget it, Callie. By the way, if you want any more of your things, you’d better come and get them soon. You also have some stuff on the boat.’
Callie bit her lip and nodded. The knowledge that he was giving up hurt her with a surprising force. Yes, she had wanted him to leave her alone, but she had also been hoping that he would take the time to think about their relationship. Apparently, he wasn’t even willing to do that. An incredible sadness filled her.
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