Page 88 of Only One Tour Bus

He starts thrusting again, resuming his pace like the interruption never happened. He grabs my hand and places my fingers on my own clit.

“I want you to play with yourself while I’m in you.”

I moan at the command and obey. It’s even easier to be obliging when Callum tells me to do the things I already want to do. And I’m rewarded with a sensation better than the first bite of chocolate, the first sip of water on a hot day, and the feeling when people tell me I gave them the best trip ever.

While my fingers are rubbing my clit, Callum pushes in even deeper. I tighten around him more and more until I come, contracting around his hard cock.

He groans at my orgasm, which pushes him into his own. Panting, he collapses on me, and I exhale loudly at the weight that’s suddenly crushing me. I weakly slap at his side to get him to move, as a concession to my lungs which apparently need an airflow. Because the rest of me is very comfortable with him where he is, even if I am bent over a table.

Callum grunts and carries me to the bed, setting me on it and then following me down. “Come here,” Callum mumbles, tucking me into his side.

“But your arm,” I protest softly.

Callum doesn’t say anything, but he does pull me in even closer.

Well, if he can’t be bothered to care about his arm, I’m not going to move from this position that I’m enjoying very much.

CHAPTER 38

CALLUM

Today, for the first time, I want to stay in the hotel room.

I’m not burning to go to a museum, I don’t need to see a historic site, and I don’t want to leave the bed that I shared with Asha the night before. I could lie here the entire morning, becoming one of the tourists that choose to spend their limited time in Europe in the hotel room when they’re surrounded by history and art and great food.

Although if they had someone like Asha in their room (not her; I have her), I guess I can’t blame them. Maybe still a little judgement if it’s their first time in the city and they blew it off for a sexual encounter, but less judgment than I would have had for them in the past.

Ironically, it’s Asha who suggests we get out of bed and see Venice. She looks so pleased with herself, and so certain that this is what I want, that I don’t have the heart to tell her no. So I do end up leaving the hotel room, for once, against my will. But I have to pretend this is what I want, when I would have been just as happy to stay in the room all day. Or until we had to meet the bus.

But she wants to go out, so we’ll go out.

She chooses to visit the Ca’ Rezzonico, a Baroque palace from the eighteenth century. It has historic significance and beautiful architectural details, but all I want to look at is Asha. She keeps trying to tell me about some detail or another that she sees, but I can’t do anything other than nod and hope that passes as a response.

After a leisurely meal, we arrive at the hotel to prepare to meet the group about an hour early. Laura gets there soon after.

“How was your free time in Venice?” Asha asks Laura.

“Fun, but now I’m knackered. I met up with some friends in the city, and we lost track of time. I ended up having to decide between sleep and food today. I chose sleep.”

“Oh no!” Asha says. “Why don’t you go get some food now? We’ll watch the bus for you, and no one will probably even be here for another forty minutes.”

“Oh, would you? That would be fantastic!”

“Yes, go,” I burst out. When both women look at me strangely, I clear my throat and add, “You need to be well fed. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

She shrugs and walks away, while Asha gets settled into her seat.

“What was that about?” she asks, not looking at me.

“This group, while being on time, doesn’t get here that early,” I say as I take her hand.

“Yes,” she says, brow a little furrowed.

I lock the bus door and lead her to the back where there are less windows because of the bathroom.

“So we have this bus all to ourselves for a while.”

“Callum! In the bus? In our workplace?” She sounds scandalized, but she turns around and braces her hands on the edge of the bus seat in front of her, throwing a mischievous smile over her shoulder at me.