“Okay, okay, you should quit while you’re ahead,” he said, and they both laughed as he found her mouth again. Then there wasn’t any more talking at all.
* * *
Callie wasn’t like Behrukh. Levi couldn’t help noticing that—again. But this time he didn’t find it so hard to cope with. He wasn’t sure what had changed from yesterday, except that he was more prepared to kiss a woman who didn’t taste like Behrukh, more prepared to touch a woman who didn’t feel like her. Maybe it helped that he’d had over twenty-four hours to recognize how unrealistic he’d been when he thought he could resist Callie.
He could even appreciate some of what made Callie unique to him. Behrukh had been so literal. She would not have understood all of the conversation they’d just had. Too much would’ve been lost in translation. With the vast differences between his culture and hers, they sometimes had difficulty communicating about basic things. Callie was as American as he was. That made certain nuances accessible to both of them from the start.
He also liked how transparent she was. Her obvious enthusiasm for what they were doing added a level of eroticism he hadn’t yet experienced. It didn’t hurt that, with her, there was no need to fear a backlash, no need to keep glancing over his shoulder as if he was taking something he had no right to take.
“This isn’t comfortable. Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said, and scooped her into his arms. They’d already tried making love in the shower but this one was too old and small. So far he’d succeeded only in donning a rubber and pulling down the damn shower rod he’d just fixed.
He wanted Callie in bed. Now.
They were wet, and he didn’t stop so they could dry off. He hoped she wouldn’t care. He couldn’t wait another second to feel her close around him.
If she minded, she didn’t complain. She stared up at him, her eyes finally saying far more than her lips.
“What you lack in bedroom talk, you make up for in other areas,” he said as he pushed inside her.
She raked her fingernails down his back and arched into him. “I meant that horse comment.”
He flashed her a smile. He appreciated the joke, but they were both too wound up to laugh. The compulsion to thrust overtook him, and she responded with a guttural moan that said she liked it.
He loved the feel of Callie, but he also liked watching her as they moved together. She looked up at him as if...as if this was somehow momentous, which was oddly gratifying. But he’d been right to issue a warning. He had no stamina. It’d been too long since he’d had any kind of sexual release. The sudden rush of climax hit him almost instantly.
He tried to stop himself, to hang on so he could provide more enjoyment for her, but she shook her head.
“It’s okay,” she murmured, and tightened her legs, drawing him so deep there was nothing he could do but let go.
* * *
“Give me a few minutes,” Levi said as he attempted to recover. “I’m really not so bad in bed.”
Callie combed her fingers through his hair, which was still wet but drying quickly. “There’s no rush,” she said. “I’m tired, anyway.”
Lately, she was always tired. She wanted to fall asleep with him lying on her shoulder, as he was now, but she had to go take some of the medication she’d hidden above the fridge, behind an odd assortment of her grandmother’s rose vases and pitchers. She hadn’t wanted him to see her swallowing pills at dinner. Then she’d gotten so caught up in the tension between them she’d forgotten.
“Where are you going?” he asked as she slipped out of bed.
“To dry my hair or it’ll be wet all night.”
“Okay, wake me when you get back.”
“I will,” she promised. But when she returned, she was careful not to disturb his sleep. She lay awake for some time, listening to him breathe and saying a silent prayer that she hadn’t done something she’d regret.
21
When Callie woke up, it was only two-thirty in the morning. She hadn’t been asleep for more than a few hours.
At first, she couldn’t figure out what had disturbed her. Levi hadn’t budged. His breathing was soft and even, and she felt warm and comfortable beside him. Rifle wasn’t stirring, either; he was dozing peacefully on the carpet by her bed. And there were no strange noises coming from outside, nothing that led her to believe Denny and Powell were back....
Then she realized. She didn’t feel well. As a matter of fact, she felt terrible. Weak. Nauseous.
Shit. She was going to throw up again. But she didn’t want Levi to hear her. Then he’d know something was wrong. She couldn’t claim she had the flu twice in such a short time. She had to get up and out of the bedroom.
Moving as carefully as possible, so she wouldn’t disturb him, she slipped out of bed and tiptoed from the room. The jingle of Rifle’s collar told her she’d awakened him. He was following her. But Levi remained dead to the world. He’d missed a lot of sleep the past week, and she was glad he had the chance to catch up.
She had to move faster if she expected to get herself somewhere she could throw up without being noticed. She considered going outside, to the barn. But there wasn’t time to walk that far. She made it to the half bath off the kitchen before everything she’d had for dinner came back up.
She tried not to make a sound until she could close the door, a feat she managed with her foot since she couldn’t leave the toilet. Rifle squeezed through first, however. He watched her, tongue hanging out, eyes seemingly sympathetic. That was enough to make her grateful for his presence.
“I’m going...to be okay,” she told him. She wouldn’t succumb to liver failure. She was going to get well. If meeting Levi had taught her anything, it was that falling in love was every bit as wonderful as it was supposed to be. Experiencing this in her condition and with someone she didn’t know anything about wasn’t ideal. But she wanted to enjoy it as long as possible, as long as Levi was willing to stay.
She leaned over the toilet as she struggled to regain her breath. If she didn’t want to end up on the floor, she had to conserve her strength. But she retched again a few minutes later. And a few minutes after that. Only this time when she lifted her head she saw a red substance in what had come up.
Fresh fear lanced through her. She was vomiting blood.
* * *
Levi woke to an empty bed. He listened for Callie, but couldn’t hear her moving around the house. Thinking she might be in the kitchen, eating breakfast, he climbed out of bed and pulled on her pink robe, since his only clothes were still wet. But the kitchen was as empty as all the other rooms. She didn’t even seem to have eaten.