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“Follow me.” She hops off the stool and heads outside. The moon is full and lights up the sand outside the bar. Rosa walks closer to the shoreline. I’m following a few paces behind. The thought of sex on the beach is not as appealing as it sounds. Sand in your arse or vag is not fun. Trust me on that. I continue to follow her until she starts heading up the grassy dune. We’ve walked a couple of hundred metres.
There is a small house silhouetted in the moon’s glow. Probably Rosa’s house. It’s small and cute. Very Spanish, which I adore. Maybe if I weren’t so horny I would spend some time taking in the decor, but, right now, my mind is solely focused on getting Rosa naked. A thought flashes through my mind. I didn’t put my wig back on. Rosa has seen my natural hair. If she sees that post, she could point whoever is looking for me straight to my temporary doorstep.
I shake my head. If I lose sex, lose this part of my life, I’m not really sure what I’m living for. Fuck it, I need this. We haven’t uttered a word since leaving the bar. We’re standing in her living/dining room. I stride over in two steps. My 5’9” height comes in handy when I need to close a space quickly. If she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it. I rip off her T-shirt then her shorts. She isn't wearing underwear. I am going to devour Rosa.
I love it when I find a woman who reflects my predilections in the sack. Rosa wants it hot and fast, and that’s what she’s going to get. I don’t even bother looking for her bed. The table is right there. I slam my lips on hers. The kiss is frantic and wild. Before she can relax into it, I spin her. Her hands land on the table. Instinctively she bends over, thrusting her perfect arse and pussy into me. I kick her legs apart. Her slit is glistening with her excitement. I brush two fingers through it, coating them before thrusting into her. Her deep moan soaks my knickers. Once I’m done with her, she will tend to me, on her knees.
It takes Rosa several minutes to come. I like building a woman up, getting her to the edge and then easing off. I have done that several times with Rosa. When she growls at me to let her come, I laugh and then thrust harder. Her scream echoes around the room. I withdraw my hand. My breath is just as rapid as hers. She spins and drops to her knees. Rosa is the perfect playmate. At least for tonight, I can forget what’s coming for me. Rosa will help me with that.
Chapter 6
Daisy
I’m surprised that Callie had been so careless. She rented a car from Lyon under the name Rose Pickford. It was child’s play finding her again after that. Callie has made a mistake. I now know she is in a small town between Gibraltar and Malaga. There is only one hotel there and the car she rented is parked out front.
I’m grateful to be the one tracking her. If she’d made that mistake with one of B’s men after her, she would be in real danger. This time when I see her, I will not hide. Together we can make it so she can come home.
I snag a room at the same hotel. I just have to get there now from Malaga. My bank account isn’t going to like me very much after all this is over. It’s a good job I’m paid an exorbitant amount of money for my skills. A few taps on my phone and I have a car. The day is sailing by. I need to get on the road.
Just under an hour and twenty minutes later, I pull in front of the hotel. The sun has long set, but I feel completely wired. For the past few days, all I have done is sit on my arse waiting for my laptop to give me good news. I’m restless. Usually I hit the gym every other day to work off my excess energy, but for obvious reasons I have had to skip leg day.
The woman at the desk is nice. She speaks a little English. I make it easier on us both by showing her the reservation on my phone and handing over my ID. A few clicks and I’m all checked-in. The room is nice, a sea view which is welcomed. I can’t sit in my room, though. I need to walk. Finding Callie will have to wait until the morning. It’s likely she’s already holed up in her room, anyway.
The access to the beach from the hotel is mighty handy. The sand is so soft and still warm from the day’s sun. I slip off my flip-flops and push my toes deeper into the sand. The last time I felt sand like this was… Jesus, I can’t remember. My life revolves around work. I love my job and I lose myself in projects far too easily. I need to put a reminder in my calendar to actually take a break.
The thing is, when you’ve been told and made to feel useless your entire life, it has a knock-on effect. I know full well why I’m a workaholic, I don’t need a shrink to figure that out. For the first time in forever, I’m useful. My bosses need me, the company needs me. What I do is specialised to the point that I’m one of only a handful of people in the country that can… nope, still a no no on the job description.
The moon is so bright the entire beach is lit up. I’m alone, it’s just me, myself and I. I huff out a breath. As fulfilling as my job is, I want someone to go home to. Dating has always come second, by design. Once Callie was gone, I had no interest in anything deeper than a good shag. Penny tells me I’m ridiculous, she has several friends that have asked her to set me up with them. My answer is always a resounding no.
The air is still delightfully warm. I have no idea how long I’ve been walking. I should turn back and go to bed. My footsteps are lazy, my mind is unfocused. It could just be fatigue, but I think it’s more likely that my brain can’t process the fact that I will see Callie tomorrow.
There’s a small house just up the bank to my left. I’m almost level with the door when it opens and two women stumble out laughing and kissing. My heart clenches. How I wish that were me and... hang on a minute. No, it can’t be. Even in the glow of moonlight, Callie’s hair is unmistakable. Well, fuck. My. Life.
I am frozen to the spot. I watch as Callie leans in and kisses the Spanish beauty again before turning. Her steps falter and the laughter that was etched across her skin melts away. Her eyes open comically wide and her mouth forms an O. Her hand is still laced with the mystery woman, who is also staring at me. I’m sure she’s wondering what the hell I’m looking at. Maybe she thinks I’m being homophobic.
I see her mouth move, but can’t understand what she is saying. I think she is speaking Spanish. Callie’s eyes momentarily leave mine. She’s replying to the woman. In a flash, her attention is back on me. I still haven’t moved. I know I was going to see her tomorrow, but bumping into her like this has me spinning out. She signs to me, “Daisy?” Senorita Big Tits—seriously, you should see them—catches Callie’s hand movements and looks between us before speaking again. Callie doesn’t look at her this time, she just repeats my name.
I have to snap out of it. Callie, my Callie, is right there, and she’s talking to me. I shake my head and nod at her. I sign back. “Hi, Callie.” The Spanish lady doesn’t look impressed that Callie has just dropped her hand and is taking steps towards me. I am over the bastard moon.
My whole body comes alive when Callie scoops me into her arms and holds me tight. I breathe her in. Her smell hasn’t changed in ten years. She smells of cherries. I used to take the piss out of her for buying L’Oréal for Kids Cherry Shampoo. She would laugh and tell me that she never had to suffer from stinging eyes because her shampoo was tear-free. Clearly, she still stands by that.
I could bask in that smell forever. My arms hold her just as tight. We stay wrapped in each other for what feels like hours. I feel her press her nose to my neck and inhale. She’s reacquainting herself with me. Hopefully, I haven’t changed from what she remembers.
Her arms begin to unfurl, and I want to weep. She takes a step back, her eyes are searching my face. I have to say something. Now I’m quite glad that not everyone in the world can understand sign language because I don’t want the other woman getting involved in our conversation.
“Callie, you look good.” I get the obvious out of the way. She may have been running for her life, but she looks fucking fine doing it. At eighteen Callie was fit. At twenty-eight she looks phenomenal. I would guess weights and yoga.
“What... How are you here?” Callie’s hands are trembling as she signs.
“I never stopped looking for you! Why didn’t you tell me you were going?” Alright, so my twenty-two-year-old self is still pretty upset that she left without a word. I should be delving into the “Betty has my brother at gunpoint” spiel, but my heart has other ideas. I need to understand why she left me.
“I couldn’t put you in danger. Betty would have hurt you. You don’t know her like I do!”
Oh, Callie. “I know exactly who she is. I have known since I was sixteen.”
Her hands drop to her sides and she stares at me. I can see the expression on her face turn from joy to suspicion in an instance. Her eyes start darting about. She’s looking for something or more like someone. Callie thinks I’m here to take her to Betty. “Callie, relax. I’m not with Betty, for fuck’s sakes.” I roll my eyes, just like I would when we were kids, and she’d do something ridiculous.
“You’re not?”
