24
Camila
“Either I get in the water, or I’ll fall apart. For God’s sake!” I shout into the vastness of the landscape as I toss my towel onto a gnarled eucalyptus root jutting out from the bank.
The Willow Creek River is an oasis of shade and coolness in the middle of the relentless Australian outback.
At this hour, the water—a miraculous trickle filtered from the nearby hills—winds its way through rocks and a dense canopy of mulgas and tea trees that devour the evening light.
The air smells of eucalyptus, packed earth, and that sweet, wild scent of the underbrush that the sun has been slowly cooking for twelve straight hours.
After the chaotic brawl in the town square, the tangled cables, Darana’s piercing glances, and the suffocating tension that nearly blew everything sky-high, this little corner feels like the only safe place on earth.
I unbutton my shirt with clumsy, anxious fingers, letting it fall onto the dry grass, and take off my shoes to feel the comforting touch of the ground beneath my bare feet.
I stand in my underwear, gazing at the golden and violet reflection the sky casts upon the river’s calm surface.
When I take my first step into the water, a delightful shiver runs up my legs.
The contrast is stark; the river is icy and clear, flowing with a slowness that invites me to submerge myself completely and drown out my own thoughts.
I sink up to my shoulders, letting out a moan of pleasure into the current.
I close my eyes, tilting my head back to wet my hair, trying with all my might to let the water wash the image of Darana from my mind as well.
But a familiar voice interrupts my attempt.
“I knew that behind that scientist facade, there was still someone who loved this part of the Outback,” Maddie purrs from the underbrush.
I snap my eyes open and spin around. I see her on the riverbank, leaning against the trunk of a willow tree, looking at me with a mischievous, brazen smile that hides absolutely nothing of her intentions.
She isn’t wearing her hat, and her hair falls tousled over her shoulders.
Before I can say anything coherent or ask her what the hell she’s doing here, Maddie unbuckles her belt, letting her pants fall to the ground, followed by her T-shirt.
She’s left standing in her dark underwear, which contrasts with her sun-kissed skin, and, without taking her eyes off mine, she slips into the water with the agility of a feline that knows full well it has cornered its prey.
“Maddie… what are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to have gotten back together with Ricky?”
“Ricky’s a sweetheart, but he doesn’t have your curves—not even close,” she replies with a playful smile, closing the distance between us. “I saw you rush out, and I thought maybe you needed a little company. The good kind, of course.”
Maddie Strong is such a danger.
Water surrounds us, but when she stops just a few inches away from me, the river’s chill disappears completely.
I feel the heat radiating from her body, the scent of her perfume mingling with the river water, and the predatory gleam in her eyes.
I can’t deny the evidence: she’s a stunning woman, a whirlwind of direct, unapologetic sensuality who knows how to make anyone feel like the center of the universe.
After days of murderous glares, reproaches, and frustrating, unresolved tension with Darana that’s wearing on my nerves, Maddie’s proposal is like a lifeline of distraction I’d cling to over and over again.
“You’re playing with fire, Strong,” I warn her, though I don’t back down even a single millimeter.
“Well, I love getting burned, Bennet. And I know you do too, even if you pretend to be a prude,” she whispers just before capturing my lips with hers.
The kiss is a rush of adrenaline. Maddie doesn’t beat around the bush; she grabs the back of my neck with her wet fingers, tangling them possessively in my hair, while her tongue seeks mine with an urgency that makes me let out a muffled moan.
It’s a wet, deep kiss. My hands, which just a second ago were floating indecisively in the current, automatically find their way to her bare hips.
Her skin is soft and slippery underwater, and that direct contact flips a switch in my brain that sends every shred of rationality to hell.
I press myself eagerly against her. Maddie lets out a giggle muffled between our lips, delighted by my response, and wraps her legs around my waist, clinging tightly to me as we sway gently with the river’s current.
Her hands slide brazenly down my back, stripping away what little underwear I have left with enviable dexterity and tossing it toward the bank.
“Want to enjoy the night a little?”
“Shut up already, Maddie.”
Our bodies press together hungrily. I feel her firm breasts against mine, our hard nipples brushing against each other underwater.
My hands slide down to her ass, squeezing her round, firm cheeks as she rubs her pussy against me.
I can tell she’s soaking wet—and not just from the river.
I slide a hand between her legs and part her swollen folds, finding her hard, throbbing clit.
I rub it in slow circles at first, then faster, listening to her moan against my neck.
Maddie slips her hand between us and finds my pussy, plunging her fingers inside me without warning.
I’m so wet that they slide in easily, stretching me.
She starts fucking me at a steady rhythm while I do the same to her, now feeling her inner walls squeeze and throb around my fingers.
The water splashes around us with every movement.
I twist my fingers inside her, brushing against her inner folds, and she arches her back, pushing her hips against my hand so I’ll fuck her deeper.
My fingers thrust hard in and out of her pussy, feeling her hot juices coat my hand even underwater. Maddie picks up the pace, brushing my swollen clit with her thumb every time she thrusts into me. Our bodies slide against each other, the cold water contrasting with the scorching heat.
Maddie lowers her head and sucks on one of my nipples.
I bite her shoulder as I rub her swollen clit with my thumb.
Her moans grow louder, more urgent. I feel her inner walls contract around my fingers, squeezing me tightly—the prelude to orgasm.
I’m on the edge too; pleasure builds in my lower abdomen like a thunderstorm, charged with tension with every thrust.
Maddie seeks my mouth again, devouring me with a frenzy that tells me she, too, is reaching her limit.
The pleasure builds brutally until it explodes.
Her pussy contracts violently around my fingers, soaking me as she screams into my shoulder.
At the same time, the orgasm hits me with the force of a lightning bolt.
We keep moving for a little while longer, riding the last waves of pleasure.
However, as the throbbing begins to subside and the river water feels cold again against my exposed skin, the thick fog of pleasure dissipates with terrifying speed.
And what remains beneath it is not peace or satisfaction, but a cold, sharp lucidity that comes crashing down on me like a bucket of ice water.
Maddie is still clinging to me, breathing heavily against my neck, one hand lazily caressing my back.
But I’m no longer there. My eyes are fixed on the horizon, beyond the treetops, and an unbearable tightness squeezes my chest. I see myself from the outside, naked in the middle of a river, having sex with another woman in an attempt to put out a fire that has a completely different name.
This is wrong. Very wrong. Not because of the sex itself—which was spectacular—but because of the tremendous lie I’m telling myself.
I can’t keep using it as a shield to protect myself from what I’m truly terrified to face.
Carefully, I unhook Maddie’s legs from my waist and slide backward, letting the river water come between our bodies once more.
“Maddie…” I say, determined to get this weight off my chest.
“Tell me,” she replies, floating on her back with absolute calm. Then she stretches out her arms as if she were at a luxury spa instead of in a wild river. “Are you already thinking about round two?”
“No, it’s not that… Listen to me,” I say, forcing her to stand on the riverbed so she’ll look at me seriously. “I’m sorry, I really am… but this can’t happen again.”
Maddie watches me for a couple of seconds, narrowing her eyes.
There’s no drama on her face, no pain, not a single hint of the offense anyone might feel after being rebuffed right after a passionate romp.
On the contrary, the corners of her lips curve into that mischievous, playful, and completely detached smile that’s her trademark.
“Whatever you say, scientist,” she replies with astonishing nonchalance, shrugging as she turns around and starts walking toward the shore, letting the water run down her body without the slightest hint of embarrassment.
“It’s not like we were going to get married, right?
It was great, but if your brain wants something else, I’m not one to stand in your way. ”
I watch her step out of the river, pick up her clothes, and begin to get dressed with enviable composure, whistling a country tune as if we’d just had a simple cup of coffee at the village café.
Maddie Strong doesn’t care in the least that I want nothing more to do with her.
It doesn’t hurt her; it doesn’t affect her pride, because for her, this has never been anything more than a fun game to pass the hot afternoons.
And it’s precisely that indifference that delivers the final blow of reality to me.
I’m left alone in the water. I submerge myself one last time to wash away the traces of sex, feeling the cold jolt the few brain cells I have left that are still intact, and shortly afterward, I step out of the river, feeling the weight in my feet.
As I pull on my jeans and button up my shirt, the truth hits me.
I lean against the eucalyptus trunk, letting my head fall back, and let out a snort of frustration.
Damn it. I can’t keep doing this to Darana.
I can’t keep fooling around with Maddie, running away from the conversations we need to have, and climbing into other people’s beds while I look at her as if she were the air I need to breathe.
It’s unfair, cowardly, and despicable. Even though Darana treats me like dirt and reminds me every other minute that my days are numbered in this damn place, what happened last night on the dance floor was real, and it’s the only thing that really matters to me.
I run my hands through my wet hair, desperate.
The worst part is that I don’t have a fucking clue what my exact feelings toward her are.
I don’t know if it’s an instinct or an obsession with the past that binds us; I don’t know if it’s the overwhelming guilt over Elijah’s shadow, which always looms over us; or if it’s simply that I’m drawn to Darana Calloway on such a destructive level that I’m afraid I’ll end up losing my mind completely if I give in to what I feel.
And for this, I have no scientific maps; there are no mathematical formulas to explain why her bad temper turns me on so much or why seeing her suffer over her estate sends a sharp twinge straight through my heart.
But what I do know for sure is that this game is over. I’m not going to hide behind Maddie or any other cheap distraction again. If I have to crash into Darana Calloway’s wall of ice, I’ll do it with my head held high and my feet planted in the mud.