Discipline Down Under (9 page)

Tripp continued to finger her and lick her clit until she found release again. As her pulsing pussy recovered, he released her and rested his head against her thigh.

“Oi, woman.”

“Let me taste you, too. Or fuck me. Or both. Yes, both.”

He chuckled. “I won’t fuck ya. It’s not the right time,” Tripp told her. “But I’m bursting at the seams from wanting yer mouth on me.”

Peg wanted that too, though she was a little disappointed at not being allowed to feel his raging hard-on inside her pussy. “Mmm. Lie back.”

He crawled over to her side and lay on his back. Peg grabbed his cock, and slid her hand up and down it, maybe a little roughly, because he stilled her movements and showed her how he liked it best. She followed his lead, but also leaned over him and licked at one of his nipples, causing him to squirm. It was hard to wait; Peg wanted him in her mouth, wanted to feel powerful and sexy. She worked her way down his torso, pausing briefly to tickle his belly button, but that only resulted in his hand gripping her hair and coaxing her to move lower.

Peg rubbed her cheek against the base of his erection and tasted his balls, inhaling the scent of him, much as he’d done with her. He smelled earthy, clean, unlike anything she could compare it to. It was Tripp’s own perfume and Peg relished it. The scent clinging to her nose, Peg plied her tongue up his shaft, and tasted the drop of semen she found on its bulbous head. Salty, rich, his taste, like his scent, spoke to her hindbrain and seduced her.

Slowly, gently, Peg took him in her mouth, feeling his grip on her hair tighten as she lowered her head until he rested on the back of her tongue. Although she was in control for the first part of the process, Tripp’s guiding hand soon had charge of the situation and was teaching Peg the right rhythm. Their breathing became harsh, and Tripp moaned and arched into her mouth.

Peg was enjoying the experience more than she ever would have imagined. Everything about it was perfect, right. It was as though she’d waited forever for these moments. When Tripp growled and released into her mouth, she lapped it up and swallowed his essence like liquid ambrosia.

Eventually, though they were both breathless, Tripp coaxed her up into his arms.

They rested there until the kookaburra began to cackle and the sun lent some light to the outback sky.

Chapter Six

They were about to break their fast that morning, when there was a sound from the bush. It sounded like a person calling out.

“What’s that?” Peg asked.

“Sounds like a friendly haloo.”

“It does? Who would do that?”

A man emerged from the trees. He was about five foot six, with bushy black hair, black eyes, and skin nearly as black. An aboriginal. His face paint was white with red stripes, and he carried a daypack like a weird combo of earthy tribesman meets city dweller. Peg had a hard time estimating his age, but she thought he was in his younger twenties. His smile was broad when he saw Tripp.

“G’day, mate!” He strolled over to Tripp and they bumped fists.

“G’day, Nigel.”

Nigel smiled pleasantly at Peg, and she saw that he had a narrow gap between his two front teeth.

Tripp made introductions. “Nigel Gray, met Peggy Fisk.” Tripp patted his friend’s shoulder. “Nigel,” he told Peg, “is my partner, Victor’s, brother.”

Peg offered her hand. “Nigel, please call me Peg.”

Nigel looked between the couple and grinned again, mischief twinkling in his dark eyes. “Nice to meet ya, Peggy.”

Tripp snorted softly, apparently trying to hold back a laugh. Peg’s temper rose, but she held it back. And to think she’d been considering how she might get Tripp to succumb to her wiles again. Instead of making the rude comment she thought of, Peg smoothed down her ponytail and tried not to frown.

“Where’s the party?” Nigel asked.

Peg’s ears perked up. “Party?”

“He means, where are we off to,” Tripp answered, then turned to Nigel. “We’ll pack over to Paterson’s Billabong. We’re due there tonight. Victor is picking us up tomorrow afternoon.”

Nigel nodded. “That’s a long trek for one day.”

Tripp nodded. “We got a little sidetracked yesterday. If we hike steadily, we can make it by sundown.”

“Right. I shouldn’t keep ya.”

Peg had never met an aboriginal before. She didn’t know what she’d expected. An accent other than the Australian twang? Patois? Some sort of pidgin sign language? She realized how stupid those expectations were. These were civilized people, Australians all. Their customs might be a bit foreign, but so were the average Australians to her American sensibilities.

“Where are ya off to, mate?” Tripp asked.

“To the tribal village. My cousin’s getting married. We’ve got a party going on.” He patted his pack. “I’m bringing the beer.”

Tripp laughed. “Yer going to need more than that.”

“This is my third trip!”

Peg found that amusing, too, so she chuckled.

“Say,” Tripp began, giving her a passing glance. “Why don’t ya come along with us for a bit? We’re going the same direction.”

Nigel looked between the two. Peg couldn’t tell what his thoughts might be. “Sure it’s
grouse
?”

“Absolutely! Isn’t that right, Peggy?”

What could she say? She’d have much rather shared the path with Tripp alone. Maybe she’d have gotten the nerve up to tell him how she felt, or maybe he’d have made some declaration of affection. As it was, she had their encounter last night, and shouldn’t have expectations of more. “Sure. Of course.”

“Righty-oh,” Nigel pronounced.

Tripp started to clear up the camp, and Peg tried to help, though she was entirely inept at it. “Sit,” Tripp told her mildly. “I’ve got this.”

So Peg sat, trying not to feel the silence between her and Nigel. He rummaged around in his daypack. “Want a granola bar?”

Peg burst out into laughter. Being offered a granola bar by a painted aboriginal was about the funniest thing she could ever imagine. She laughed and laughed, until she had Nigel laughing too, though he couldn’t possibly know why.

Eventually, her laughter turned to chortles, and she took the bar, said her thanks, and enjoyed every bite. From there on out, Nigel called her Peg. They were becoming friends.

* * *

The pace was brisk as they wound their way through the eucalypt forest. Tripp could tell that Peggy was impatiently tolerating their being accompanied by Nigel, and he was pretty sure he knew why. It had been a mistake to get intimate with her. He’d known it was the wrong thing to do, but one thing led to another and boom! Hormones had taken over. It couldn’t happen again. They had one more night together, and Tripp thought he might sleep outside again. The nights were warm enough and it was unlikely for critters to come by and try to do him harm. Certainly, separation during the bedtime hours was the best way to avoid another mistake.

It was disappointing that he couldn’t stay close to Peggy. He liked her a lot. Respected her determination and spunk. She was cute and, although he didn’t want to dwell on it, she was a good
root
as well. Taking her fully would have been sublime, and following that up with some proper dating and getting to know one another away from the bush would have been perfect. But she was American; sure to go back to the United States sooner rather than later, and the last thing Tripp needed was a long-distance love affair. Neither of them needed that. If she’d been Australian, or even a permanent resident foreigner in his country, that would have made a huge difference. But the reality was that she was not. She had a temporary visa and that was all.

There was also her date with Matt to consider. It was possible that Tripp was reading much more into their affair than was warranted. She’d agreed to meet Matt easily enough. And, it wasn’t like she’d been a virgin when they’d done it together. She knew how to give head well enough. That might say something about her. Or maybe it was his own bitterness at their separation talking. Tripp tried not to care.

So, he trudged forward, leading the way through the trees and mulch, without stopping to allow Peggy to take pictures. She’d messed up their schedule, so unfortunately, this was the price she’d have to pay. There would be plenty of wildlife around the billabong, and if they could make it tonight as he wanted, tomorrow morning could be spent taking photos. It would have to do.

* * *

Peg was utterly exhausted by the time they made it to the billabong. It was about an hour after dark when they got to the campsite. Someone had left quite a mess before them, and it took another hour to clean it up and prepare it for their overnight habitation. Tripp set up the tent, and put together a small fire in the fire pit.

Nigel had talked nonstop all day. It was amazing how much he had to say that was completely uninteresting for Peg. Her ears perked up when they talked about Tripp’s time as a ranger. She didn’t learn much, however.

When Tripp asked Nigel if he wanted to camp out with them that night, Peg wanted to rip her hair out and scream. There was no way she was going to get a moment to see how Tripp felt about their relationship. And the next day they’d separate for good. They both had to go back to Katherine, but separately. Tripp had more clients waiting for his guidance, and Peg had to think about what she wanted to do next. Going to Perth to stay with her father was her most likely option.

It was depressing to think about losing touch with Tripp. She wanted to be with him more.

“Tripp,” she began as he sat quietly with the chattering Nigel. “Can I talk to you a moment?”

He met her gaze briefly, then looked away. “Nigel, will ya excuse us, mate?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.” He stood and Peg led him a few yards away toward the billabong. Peg knew there were no crocs in the water; Tripp had assured her of that.

“Tripp, about last night…”

“No worries, Peggy. It happened, that’s all. I’ll keep my
doodle
in my trousers from now on.”

“I wish you wouldn’t. I mean, I wish you wouldn’t be that way. I know that with Nigel around we have to be circumspect, but don’t you want to make something of what we started?” It was so bold of her. Normally, she would have let him take the lead, but he seemed disinclined to make the next move. Maybe that was an Aussie thing.

“It’s not a great idea. You and I are from different worlds.”

They were, she knew that. But they didn’t have to remain that way. “But we can work on it.”

He looked pained. “I’m sorry. It wouldn’t work.”

Defeated, Peg decided to back down before she got really hurt. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

Tripp stepped toward her and touched her face. “Don’t fret, Peggy. I wish it could be different.”

One more try. “But Tripp, it could!”

He turned away, and Peg took that as his answer.

It hurt. Hurt badly. She’d come to feel something strong for Tripp. But, in fact, she didn’t know him all that well. Hours of talking while they hiked taught her a little about him, but not his emotional attachments. She didn’t know anything about his family, for example. What were they like? Was he close to them? She wished he’d volunteered more information. She didn’t want to be too nosy. Maybe if she’d tried harder, coaxed some feelings out of him, he’d want her more. Maybe she’d messed up by not seeming interested enough in things other than his body. Aside from his partner, Victor, and now Nigel, Peg didn’t know who his friends were or what he was hoping for in his life. It looked like Peg was not it.

They went back to Nigel, and he kept up a steady stream of conversation until it was time for bed. Peg didn’t join in much. She didn’t feel like talking.

* * *

The next morning, Nigel left, heading further into the bush to his family. Peg had come to like him for his sense of humor and his thoughtful questions. He kind of grew on a person, even if he did talk too much.

Tripp looked tired, and he seemed uncomfortable with her. It was not the way Peg wanted to part from him. She kept the conversation neutral and that helped loosen him up a bit.

“There are some birds that linger ‘round the billabong, Peggy. Get yer camera.”

And so they went. The morning passed very quickly. Too quickly. And suddenly it was noon. Tripp packed up their belongings and they waited, making small talk, for Victor to arrive.

A very old rattletrap of a Land Rover drove up, throwing up dirt as it came. An aboriginal man got out and waved.

“G’day!”

“G’day, Victor,” Tripp responded. Indicating Peg, he said, “This is Peggy Fisk.”

Victor offered a weathered hand. He looked a little older than Tripp, and more beaten up by the elements. “Peggy.”

Peg decided not to correct him; she was getting used to being called Peggy. “Hello.”

“Ready to join civilization again?” If anything, Victor’s accent was even more pronounced than Tripp’s.

In many ways she was more than ready, but being separated from Tripp sounded dismal enough that she wished their trek through the outback could last much longer. But they were nearly out of water and food, and she hadn’t planned an extended trip, so this was going to be it.

“Sure. It’s been fun, though.” She snuck a glance at Tripp, watching his smile falter for a scant second before it returned. It didn’t reach his green eyes.

“I’m looking forward to a proper bath,” Tripp said, as he hefted his pack and Peg’s. “Onward, mate,” he said to Victor.

Peg took the back seat and Tripp the front while Victor drove. The entire drive back to Peg’s Rover was quiet, with Victor asking a few polite questions and Peg giving equally polite answers. Each mile felt like a single painful moment in time, separating her from Tripp all too quickly.

* * *

They came back in separate vehicles, but Tripp made sure Peggy was secure in the hotel before he said goodbye. It was an uncomfortable parting.