Long Way Down (Calloway Sisters 4)

“Yeah,” I tell her, “right here.” I push two fingers into her, and she lets out a high-pitched moan that seriously almost causes me to come.

I grit my teeth, forcing down my own arousal. Her back hits the tree trunk, and I thumb her sensitive nerves while my fingers work. Daisy’s gaze descends my arms and abs, drinking me in as much as I’m fucking devouring her.

She yanks my compression shorts, my hard cock in view. I step out of the last article of clothing, and she mutters something under her breath that sounds like Oh my God.

Her hand touches mine, the one between her legs, and she stares at the way my fingers disappear inside of her. She’s stimulated visually, and it’s the cutest fucking thing.

“You like my fingers inside of you, sweetheart?”

She grows so fucking wet, her breath shortening. Her hand tightens on my wrist.

“What about my fucking cock? You want this inside of you next, Calloway?” With my free hand, I take hers and set it on my shaft.

She hits a climax, and her knees almost buckle. “Ahh!” she moans. I catch her around the waist, pulling my fingers out, and I spin her around to the tree, her skin slick.

I bend down for a second, grabbing my phone from my pants, and I position her palms against the white bark. “Tell me if you’re in any fucking pain,” I remind her. Since her period ended, she hasn’t been in any when we’ve slept together or during the day. And I’m hoping to continue that streak.

She’s too tired to look over her shoulder for long, but she watches as I grip my erection and slide into her from behind.

The tightness fucking kills me—in the best way. She pants and looks overcome by the fullness.

“Ryke.” She holds onto my wrist that clutches her hip, and I thrust deeper in—fuck. Using my phone I record only my dick sliding further in and out, a close-up that she can’t see from this angle. After thirty-seconds of footage, I hand her the phone.

She replays it while I quicken my pace, each thrust like fucking the sun and sky and heaven. “Fuck,” I groan lowly, not finished. Not ready to end this.

She keeps watching the phone, and she clenches around my entire cock, pulsating. “I can’t,” I hear her choke.

I pull her body back against mine, my arm wrapped around her waist, and I fuck her with aggression and affection, pushing up into her until we’re both reaching the tallest peak of my fucking life.

“I ca—Ryke!”

I come, releasing inside of her, and she shudders again, releasing with me. She turns her head dazedly, and her lips near mine, I kiss her tenderly. She kisses back, almost feral, and I keep her inside of me while her hunger stirs. I’ve never made out with someone like I have with Dais—like the world could be burning behind us and it’d only fuel our bodies, moving faster and fucking stronger.

After a couple minutes, we finally detach, and I gently pull out of her, zoned in on her expression. She never winces. While we dress and wipe off, she says, “That was in my top five.”

“Yeah?” I pull on my pants and feel a fucking smile lighten my dark features.

“I think I blacked out a minute there it was so intense.” She snaps on her bra. “Two wild animals, doing what wild animals do.”

“And what’s that?” I put my charcoal shirt on and then reach for my backpack.

“Make love to make babies to sustain the species.” She buttons her shorts. “It’s the natural course of things.”

I’m quiet for a second, clipping the straps over my chest and then pocketing my phone. “You know, Dais,” I say, trying to pick the right words, “it’s not unnatural if we can’t do it that way. It’s just fucking different.” I don’t want her to think she’s less than anyone. Having a baby doesn’t determine anyone’s fucking worth. She could have no female reproductive organs and be just as much of a woman…but I don’t need to tell her this.

I think Rose already did, and it’s not something that may be easy to feel at first, even if she understands what it means.

“I know,” she says with a pretty genuine smile. She slips on her shirt and then ties her hair into a high bun. “I just want to pretend while we can. Is that bad?”

I shake my head. “No.” I walk over to her and kiss her temple. “What kind of animals are we?”

She bites my arm playfully. “You’re a wolf.” Then she howls, pretty fucking cute. I’m about to mess with her hair, but my phone buzzes.

I check the caller, and she picks up her water bottle. “Fuck.” I press the speaker. “We’re half a mile—”

“Well good because I’m heading to you. Look at what I do for you, man. Can you make a note of this in the reasons-why-Adam-Sully-is-your-best-friend chart? I know you have a long-lost brother and all, but my red hair and my face should give me two extra points.”

“Sully,” I say.

“Five extra points, you’re right. I shouldn’t devalue myself.”

I shake my head, but Daisy is all fucking smiles. I’d ask how many energy drinks he chugged, but he’s always like this. “Slow down, Sul.”

“I can’t, man. I can’t—I have to come to you. Oh wait…there you are.”

I look up and spot a tuft of red hair out of the forest and bundles of white birch trees. He waves in an awkward Adam Sully way that looks like half a salute.

“Come on,” I tell Daisy, resting a hand on her lower back.

Sully outstretches his arms when we approach him. “My favorite people!”

“Hey, Sully,” Daisy says before she hugs him.

He hugs back like she’s a fucking stuffed animal and mouths to me, I love her.

I flip him off.

He laughs, and when they separate, I say, “Tell me this rock is fucking good.”

“It has character.” His smile stretches his face.

“Fucking fantastic.” I know I’ll probably still be tempted to climb it, even if it looks run down—but I don’t want to scare Dais either.

“Follow me.” Sully motions north.

I have no clue what he’s leading us into.

DAISY CALLOWAY

A one-hundred-and-fifteen-ish foot crag stands before us. At least, that’s what Sully calls the gray cliff that rockets to the sky. In certain sections, the slab juts out with no clear-cut path, and I worry about turning upside-down and losing my grip.

The more Ryke inspects the rock from the base, the more his eyes alight. He sticks one finger in a crevice and lifts himself off the ground, the front of his thin climbing shoe then meets a foothold no bigger than an inch.

He climbs only about six feet before he descends. As he studies the cliff again, a smile passes through his rough exterior, lifting the corners of his lips. Mine evolves instantly to match his.

Watching Ryke surrounded by the one thing he has truly always loved is absolutely priceless. I’ve never found a passion, not like Ryke, but observing his carries me to new heights.

I’d never seek to take the place of rock climbing in his heart. What a shame it’d be, to lose this moment. It’s so special. Passion. Love. Happiness. Seeing it all—being a part of it—is more gratifying for me.

I hope that when I show my sisters and parents what I plan to do, they see how fulfilled I am by the project and entire feat.

I also hope they realize how badly I want to raise a child now. To be a mom. To help their passions come to fruition. I can’t think of a better way to spend life.

Ryke places his palm on the rock one last time before he returns to his backpack near my feet. Without speaking more than a few words, Ryke and Sully start assembling gear. Ropes, devices, harnesses, carabiners—more than I can count and each device looks vaguely different.

Ryke searches for a specific few, and Sully tosses me a harness.

I put it on, not exactly nervous about hurting myself on the climb. I just don’t want to hold them back, and I’m afraid my skill-level will do just that on this challenging rock face.

“You’re going

to ascend first with Sul,” Ryke declares, standing with a device I’ve never seen.

I try not to read into why I’m not climbing with him. In the past couple of years, I’ve accompanied both Sully and Ryke on so many climbs, and being paired with his friend is as common as being paired with him.

I nod to the device in his hand. “What’s that?”

“Anti-cross-loading locking biner.” I must wear my confusion because he adds, “I have to clip it to my belay loop. It’ll help catch me if I fucking fall. I’m going to solo-climb after Sully makes an anchor at the top.” Solo-climb: the act of climbing alone but with safety measures. Like the device in his hand. Like his rope and harness.

Sully is busy dealing with his rope, untangling the strands. His shaggy red hair bounces as he nods, like he knew this would be the plan all along.

Whenever Ryke solo-climbs, it’s usually to gain a feel for the rock. So he can redo his course without any safety measures.

His brows scrunch as he scrutinizes me. I think I even tucked a flyaway hair behind my ear, showing off my vulnerability. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

I shake my head like nothing, but more than a few things wrestle in my mind. “Doesn’t Sully usually solo-climb behind you?”

“That’s only if I’m free-soloing a crag I’ve already safely climbed before.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other and rubs his mouth. Free-solo: the act of climbing without a harness or rope. No safety measures.

“You’re going to free-solo this after you climb it once then?” I ask straight out.

He drops his hand, eyes fixated on the ground as he tries to find some words for me.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me from the start?” I wonder. “I’m not going to forbid you from free-solo climbing, and I’m glad to help Sully set the anchor for you, or even just watch him set it.”