More Than a Fling

EIGHT


One interminably long week later Ally, dressed in a soft white cotton dress that perfectly suited a balmy spring day in Cape Town, walked into the craziness of RBM’s open-plan office and looked around for Ross. She lifted her eyes to the second floor and the glass-fronted offices and couldn’t see him in his office or in the boardroom.

Since there wasn’t a receptionist in sight, she grabbed the arm of a young man walking past and asked him where Ross was. He muttered something intelligible and pointed across the room.

Ross stood bent over the shoulder of the pink-haired woman and the potbellied pig was resting its snout on his foot. Ally stared at his broad back for a long time. She was here finally and she wasn’t quite sure what to say to the man who’d spent the last couple of weeks telling her exactly what he intended doing to her as soon as he got her alone.

It had been four weeks of sexy, naughty foreplay and she was done with talking...

The saliva in her mouth dried as he stood up, turned around and noticed her standing there. Could he see that her heart was in her mouth? That her blood was pounding a beat between her thighs? Could he tell that she didn’t want to wait one more day, one more minute, before knowing what he felt like, smelt like, how he tasted?

He’d kept her on a low simmer for weeks and she was about to go off her head if he didn’t do something about it...immediately.

Ross moved across the room towards her and when he was close enough, grabbed her hand and pulled her back through the front doors of RBM.

He lifted his hands and held her face. ‘You’re here.’

Ally nodded her head. ‘Yep.’

‘I thought you were coming in on Monday.’ Ross ran his thumb over her bottom lip.

‘Changed my flight. Is that a problem?’

‘Not from where I’m standing.’ Ross’s eyes were as golden as the hot sunshine falling on her bare shoulders. ‘I want to kiss you, but if I start I won’t stop.’

He dropped his hands to her shoulders and ran his hands up and down her arms. Ally placed her hands on his chest, felt his rapid heartbeat under her fingers.

‘You look great. Not zombie-like at all.’ Ross linked his hands in hers and looked at her intensely.

She was surprised to see his Adam’s apple bob, as if he were nervous.

‘If I asked you to come with me, would you? Right now?’

‘That depends. If you’re taking me to bed, yes. If you’re taking me away to make me eat, then no.’

Ross smiled and pulled her towards the parking lot. ‘Bed first. Food later.’

‘Deal,’ Ally replied, taking the helmet he held out to her. She cradled it against her chest and moved to stand next to Ross, who’d already straddled his bike. She linked her hands around his neck and stared at his mouth. ‘I really don’t think I can wait for that kiss, Bennett.’

Ross took her helmet back, hung it over the handlebar and placed his helmet next to hers. Swinging his leg off the bike, he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her up and into him. Her stomach brushed his huge erection and her rock-hard nipples dug into his chest. The friction of cloth and heat and male hardness sent a rush of moisture between her legs.

Yet Ross still didn’t kiss her. His mouth hovered above hers, waiting, teasing, delaying...

She couldn’t take this any more, Ally thought, and launched herself upwards, slamming her mouth against his, desperate to taste him, inhale him. Her tongue slid over his lips, brushed his teeth and found his, and they indulged in a long, hot, sexy slide. She felt Ross’s hands clench on her hips, the tips of his fingers kneading her skin. His body was filled with tension, bottled-up frustration, and she wanted to feel it shatter around her—because of her. Ally tipped her head so that Ross could plunder her mouth, lose himself in her as she wanted to do with him.

Instead he pulled back and closed his eyes.

‘Why did you stop?’ she whispered, confused.

‘As I said, if I start I won’t stop. And that would give that lot more than they bargained for.’

‘Who? What?’ Ally asked, dimly aware of a lot of whistles and cat-calling coming from a distance.

Ross shuffled her around, lifted his hand and gestured behind him with his outstretched thumb. ‘Them.’

Ally looked over Ross’s shoulder to the first floor of RBM, where a clump of Ross’s staff, led by the pink-haired woman, were watching them with avid interest.

‘Go, boss!’ shouted Kate of the Pink Hair, and let out a loud whistle, pumping her fist in the air.

‘Dear God...’ Ally muttered.

‘Find a room, kids!’ she shouted.

Ally bit her lip and met Ross’s laughing eyes. ‘Why don’t we do exactly that?’

Ross stepped away from her, picked up her helmet and lobbed it at her. ‘I like the way you think, Jones.’


* * *

Ally had barely stepped through his front door when Ross grabbed her, wrapped one arm around her waist and used his other hand to tip her head up so that her mouth was at the perfect angle to receive his kiss.

He finally had her alone and he could loosen his grip on his self-control. From the moment he’d seen her standing in RBM—hell, for the past five weeks—he’d wanted this, needed her like this. He wasn’t holding back now and his hard, possessive kiss would tell her that he was a frustrated man who had the woman of his latest dreams in his arms and that he intended making damn sure that by the end of their lovemaking she would have forgotten her own name.

Ross kicked the door shut with his foot, turned her and walked her backwards so that her back was against the door, his chest flat against hers. Wanting to slow them down a bit—he was about to come in his pants as it was—he placed his hands on either side of her head and gentled his kiss, dialling down hot and wild to slow and sexy.

Ally whimpered in his mouth as she brushed her breasts against his chest, reminding him of exactly how turned on she really was. He lifted his head for a minute and stared down at her. Her cheeks were flushed with passion, her lips wet from his tongue, her eyes unfocused and wild.

He’d never felt this on edge, this crazy before. This woman was dangerous, he realised. She could slip under his skin, make him feel things he didn’t intend to feel... He had to remind himself that this was only about sex.

She wasn’t his type anyway. Obsessed, driven, vulnerable...

Ross couldn’t help licking her lip before he forced himself to speak. ‘Remember our deal, Jones?’

Ally’s hands snuck under his T-shirt and he sucked in his breath as her hands danced across his stomach.

‘Which one?’

‘This is still only a hook-up, right? No emotions, no expectations.’

‘Hell, yes. I don’t have time for a man or a relationship,’ Ally said, pushing his shirt up his chest, urging him to take it off.

Ross gripped the fabric behind his neck and pulled it over his head, dropping it to the floor. She immediately buried her face in his sternum, her tongue darting out to touch his skin. Ross groaned and shoved his fingers into her hair.

‘You’re not going mushy on me, are you?’ Ally suddenly demanded, lifting her head.

‘God, no!’

Ally licked one of his flat nipples and he shuddered. ‘Why would you think I’m getting mushy?’ he asked.

Ally lifted her head and looked him dead in the eye with passion-filled eyes. ‘Oh, just all the concern about me eating and sleeping. I wondered...’

He had to watch that. ‘I was just making sure that you had enough energy to keep up with me.’

‘Ooh, I’m so scared.’

‘You should be,’ Ross told her, finding the zip at the back of her dress and sliding it down. He pulled the dress off her shoulders and it landed in a white puddle on his slate floor, and there she stood, in pure white lacy underwear. The fabric was so sheer that he could see her pink nipples, the strip of blonde hair between her legs.

Ross pulled her bra cup aside and dipped his head, taking her peaked nipple into his mouth. Ally arched her back, slapped her hand on the back of his head to keep him there as he stroked and laved her.

‘Take it off...’ Ally muttered, trying to put her hands behind her back to take her bra off.

Ross reached behind her, flicked open the clasp, and Ally pulled the material off and tossed it away. She wiggled out of her panties and stood in front of him, one leg slightly bent so that he could see the moisture on her feminine lips.

‘Please touch me,’ she whimpered. ‘I need you to.’

Ross slid his finger between her legs, sighing at her wet heat. His thumb found her *oris and she bucked as he touched her intimately, knowingly.

‘I need you to touch me too,’ he muttered against her mouth, before sliding his tongue into her mouth and his finger into her passage.

Ally yelped into his mouth. Down below she clenched around his finger, and he smiled at her reaction. Oh, yeah, there was passion underneath. So much wild passion. ‘Now you touch me, Alyssa.’

He helped her, one-handed, to undo the button on his cargo shorts, waited impatiently as she slowly slid the zipper down. One small push had his pants around his ankles, but his erection was still constrained by his underwear, threatening to jump out. Ross flicked her * with his thumb and another finger entered her.

Ally moaned.

‘Just think how good it’s going to feel when I am inside you.’ Ross spoke in her ear. ‘Dammit, Jones, stop playing around and get me in your hand.’

Ally ran a finger up his length and Ross was certain that he’d never been this hard, this crazy for a woman’s touch. Her thumb brushed over that pulsing vein and the sensitive spot just below the head. He felt her wipe away drops of moisture and wished he was in her mouth and inside her channel, both at the same time.

He couldn’t wait much longer to have one or the other happen.

Ross pulled out of her, stepped back and whirled away to reach for the wallet that he’d tossed onto the hall table earlier. He pulled out a condom and ripped the foil packet open with his teeth. He quickly sheathed himself and, keeping his distance from Ally, lifted his eyebrows.

‘Door or bed?’

‘Door, then bed,’ Ally replied, her eyes on his erection.

She licked her lips and, seeing that pink tongue, he felt the last vestiges of his control fly out of the window. Grabbing both her wrists with one hand, he lifted her arms and held them above her head, which lifted her breasts up to his mouth. He pulled one peak into his mouth and then the other, shoving his hand between her legs. As Ally whimpered, moaned, begged above his head, he licked his way over her navel, bit her hipbone and finally settled on the honeypot between her legs. As his mouth took the place of his hand Ally bucked and yelled. One stab of his tongue, then another, and he tasted her excitement on his tongue.

‘Oh, no, you don’t. You’re gonna come with me, Jones.’ Ross pulled himself up, jammed his hands under her thighs and in one fast movement buried himself in her.

She felt so wondrous, so damned perfect, that he stopped pumping, just wanting to capture the perfection of feeling her for the first time. Awed at being allowed to share the wild, primal side of this fascinating woman.

Ally’s head whipped from side to side. ‘Nooooo. Don’t stop.’ She pumped her hips, half pulled herself off him and then slammed down on him again.

Ross, entranced with seeing his Miss Uptight totally unhinged—for him—allowed her to ride him. He could feel her tension, hear her words begging for release, and he took control. Holding her against the wall, he pushed as far into her as he could and bucked his hips. Ally buried her face in his neck and took what he gave her, begging for more. When he was certain that he no longer had a smidgeon of control left he felt her shudder, felt her reach up to touch his penis, and he lost it, pumping wildly into her, desperate to follow her over that beautiful edge.


His orgasm exploded from him, rocketed up his spine and blew off his head. He groaned and cursed and shuddered as he tumbled over, Ally’s hair in his mouth, her scent in his nostrils.

Eventually his heart slowed, his vision cleared and he realised that his arms and legs were straining under Ally’s dead weight. She was slumped against him, her breath uneven. Ross pulled a strand of her hair out of his mouth and ran his hand over her bottom.

‘You still alive, Jones?’

‘Mmm...’ Ally slid down his legs and leaned against him, relying on him to take her weight. ‘Je suis heureux comme un poisson dans l’eau.’

Ross leaned her against the wall and stepped into the tiny toilet next to the stairs to rid himself of his soiled condom. Finally a reason for that stupid room made for gnomes.

‘Say again?’ he asked.

‘Fish...water...happy as...’ Ally looked down at her naked body and shrugged. ‘Of course I’m still waiting for the feeling to come back into certain parts of my body.’

Ross stepped back into the room and grinned at her lazy eyes, her tousled hair. It was the most relaxed he’d ever seen her and he liked it.

And he’d loved the sex. So much so that he planned on doing it again. Very, very soon.

He walked over to Ally, held her fine jaw in his hand and kissed her gently, his tongue sliding into her mouth. She tasted like excitement and need and he felt himself rise to the occasion. Ally’s hand reached down between them and her hot hand encircled his shaft. He went instantly, surprisingly hard.

It seemed that ‘very, very soon’ would be now. He could live with that.

‘Bed?’ Ally whispered against his mouth.

‘Lead the way. I am, literally, in your hands.’

* * *

Later—a lot later—Ally lifted Ross’s hand off her bare bottom and peered at the expensive watch on his wrist. A quarter to six. In the evening. Jeez, Louise.

Sighing with regret, she slid her leg up as her hand drifted over his flat stomach.

‘Jones...’ he groaned, and his eyes remained closed. ‘I honestly can’t. Hell, we haven’t moved from this bed since lunchtime.’

Ally moaned as his thumb rasped her nipple. ‘Can’t handle it, huh? Simply no stamina!’

Within a second Ross had rolled her onto her back and was laughing down at her. ‘Lack of stamina, my ass.’

‘You have a very nice ass, but I’ll save you from proving it because I have to get back to my hotel. I still have work to do tonight.’

Ross lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. ‘It’s nearly six, Jones. Most people are about to call it quits for the day or already have.’

‘Most people didn’t waste the entire afternoon having sex.’

Ross placed a hand on his heart and looked wounded. ‘Waste? That’s harsh. An afternoon having sex is never wasted. In fact I think it’s a damn good use of one’s time. Half the population of the world would agree with me.’

‘The male half,’ Ally replied. ‘Before your ego drops to the floor and starts crying, I’ll admit that it was the best time I’ve ever wasted.’

‘Nice save. Where are you staying?’ Ross asked, his hand exploring the curve of her butt. ‘Not the Riebeek? That’s on the other side of the mountain in Hout Bay.’

‘Just for tonight.’ Ally pushed at his shoulders and Ross moved off her. ‘Luc has a friend who owns a flat in Camps Bay. I’m staying there for the next couple of weeks. I’ll pick up the keys tomorrow and move in.’

‘Camps Bay, huh? We’re practically neighbours. This is Bantry Bay, then there’s Clifton, then Camps Bay. Straight down Chappies.’

‘Chappies?’

‘Chapman’s Peak Drive. As I said—a perfect commute.’

A perfect commute for a booty call.

Why did she feel irritated by the words that she knew he thought but didn’t speak? Ally asked herself as she walked into his large en-suite bathroom, carrying her very crumpled dress and underwear in her hand. Sex, a booty call, a pleasure run...whatever they wanted to call it, it was exactly what they were indulging in, what they’d agreed to, what she wanted.

Wasn’t it?

Ally splashed some cold water over her face in an effort to wake up her dozy brain cells. Of course it was... She was having a no-strings affair with a man who seemed to enjoy her and her body—a lot! He was successful, good-looking, had a rockin’ body and knew what he was doing in bed.

It was all good. She wasn’t here for conversation or cuddling. She was here primarily to get this campaign filmed and wrapped up, and ‘doing’ Ross was just a very nice side benefit.

Don’t confuse good sex with affection, Jones. You don’t have the time, the energy or the inclination for a relationship. You stand on the outside and look in...that’s what you do...it’s your thing.

Ross pounded his fist on the closed bathroom door. ‘Hey, it looks like it might be quite a sunset. Do you want to take a walk to the beach and watch the sun go down? We could take a bottle of red and some glasses. I’ll drive you back to your hotel afterwards.’

A sunset, red wine and a good-looking man? People got to know each other over red wine and sunsets; confessions were made and secrets were revealed. Ally, knowing that she was more susceptible than most to the ambience—having never been romanced in her life—knew that she had to refuse. She simply couldn’t trust herself to keep her distance.

And whose fault is it that you’ve never been romanced? Ally heard Sabine’s spiky voice in her head. Yours, you imbecile! You’ve never allowed anyone to romance you—never opened yourself up enough to be romanced.

Ally tossed back her head, put a polite smile on her face and opened the door. She managed to send Ross an impersonal smile. ‘Thanks, but no. I think I should get going. I’m kind of tired.’

Ross, who’d pulled on a pair of jeans, nodded once before reaching for a shirt. Muttering a curse, he walked over to her, lifted her chin and kissed her nose. ‘You are the most stubborn, contrary woman I’ve ever met. Just because we’ve had sex it doesn’t mean that we can’t be friends, Ally.’

Ally pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She stared at the black and white photograph of sand dunes on the wall behind his shoulder. ‘I think it’s just...better—safer—if we don’t.’

Ross looked at her for a long minute and Ally tried not to flinch under his scrutiny. Eventually he dropped his head in a curt nod and gestured her to walk out of the room first. ‘I’ll take you back to your hotel now.’


‘Thank you.’

* * *

Ross drove her in his Jeep, leaving the top off so that the balmy spring air could blow through their hair. He loved Cape Town in spring, with the smell of the jasmine creeper that covered the wall at the bottom of his property filling the air with its sweet scent. His neighbours were starting to barbecue again after the cold, wet winter, and the lawns and gardens were lush and verdant. Spring was flower season in the Western Cape, and soon the countryside would erupt in colour.

He hoped that Ally stopped working long enough to take it all in. To appreciate the beauty. To stop and literally smell the flowers.

Ross thought that a drive along Chapman’s Peak Drive at sunset was nearly as good as sitting on the beach watching the sun going down. The road was magnificent, and it was his favourite route to drive his Ducati. He stole a glance at Ally, who was looking down the sheer drop to the sea below, switching her gaze between the sea and the mountains looming above them. Ross kept one hand on the wheel of the car, easily negotiating the twists and turns in the road as the orange sun tossed sunbeams like petals on the green-blue-aqua-purple sea.

Ross pushed a button on the steering wheel and flipped through a playlist until Macy Gray’s husky voice drifted over them. They didn’t need to talk, Ross thought, but he’d like to. He wouldn’t mind knowing what drove her incessant need to work—why she found it so difficult to make friends, be a friend, and why, when she’d been sick in Geneva, she wouldn’t ask her family for help.

She was a tightly wound ball of contradictions, he thought, his finger tapping to the beat against the edge of the steering wheel. Wild, passionate, giving with her body, but the exact opposite with her mind. He’d meant what he said about being friends—he’d always managed to be and stay friends with his previous lovers, and friendship added an element of fun to sex...a lightness that stopped it from being mechanical.

Sex with Ally had been anything but mechanical, Ross admitted, conscious of the party still wanting to happen in his pants. It had been a long time since he’d had sex that was that explosive. And once hadn’t been enough. He’d reached for her again and again and she’d responded, each time getting bolder and braver.

He really had to fight the temptation to turn the car around and take her back to bed.

Ally thought that she was emotionally self-sufficient, but he’d never seen anyone more in need of a mate—someone to make her take a deep breath, drink some wine on a beach at sunset, make her look at the flowers.

He’d be that mate—he was good at it—and when they weren’t being friends he’d shag her senseless because he was good at that too. He wouldn’t become attached—what was the point?—and he would make sure that she didn’t either.

Ross pulled up in front of the imposing entrance of The Riebeek and a red-liveried doorman stepped forward to open her door. Before she undid her seatbelt Ross grabbed the back of her neck and gently pulled her head so that he could look into her face.

‘I had a great afternoon.’

Ally darted a look at the doorman, blushed, and Ross shook his head. If the man hadn’t already realised that they’d spent the afternoon in bed, Ally’s blush and embarrassment flashed it in six-foot-high neon. The doorman, to his credit, kept his face impassive. Good man.

Ally pulled her seatbelt off and reached for the bag that she’d placed at her feet. She shoved her hand into her windblown, messy hair and pushed it off her face. ‘It’ll take a week or so before we have everything in place for the campaign.’

‘Why so long?’ Ross asked, unhappily reminded that he’d committed himself to being on the wrong side of a camera for the Bellechier campaign.

‘The creative director and I need to scout locations, hire extras, models, et cetera. I have to get the collection you’re wearing out of Customs. Things to do...busy, busy.’ Ally pulled her bag over her shoulder. ‘I’ll try and give you a date for when we need you as soon as possible.’

Ally climbed out of the Jeep and stood there, looking a little nonplussed and trying hard to be businesslike. Not so easy when they both knew that he’d had his head between her thighs just hours before.

Ally tapped the edge of the door. ‘I’ll see you.’

‘Yeah, you will.’ Ross looked at her mouth before his eyes clashed with hers. ‘Sooner than you think.’

And he’d make damn sure that it was a lot sooner than she felt comfortable with. Jones, he decided as he drove off, needed to be kept off balance to keep that busy mind of hers from thinking too much.