On Kate's fourth day in Dinner Plain, she learned about rugby. The lovely weather was holding and Russell had decided to organize a Sunday game for the crew to break the monotony. She had spent the morning writing and on the phone and was glad to get outside. They were having a barbecue down at the Cobrunga Station where the land was more level and offered a better playing field. This being a good fifteen miles away, he had brought an SUV to get her today. He started out explaining the rules to her, but when he learned she followed the San Francisco Forty Niners, he spent the rest of the ride mocking American football.

She enjoyed the game more than she had expected. They were a rag tag bunch, but it was fun to watch him play. What he lacked in athletic skill he made up for in enthusiasm and fearlessness. Muddy and breathless, he ran over to her at breaks for water and a kiss. "So? What do you think?" he asked her when it was over.

"I think you've got great legs," she said. "You should wear shorts more often."

He grinned. "No, about the game. It doesn't even compare to your football, does it?"

"Joe Montana has great legs too," she laughed. He smacked her rear and ran off to goose a couple of his mates and trade insults.

She had already agreed to have dinner with him that night. He drove them back to the hotel and followed her up to her door, still wearing his muddy footy shorts and shirt. He was carrying his clean clothes. She stopped him. "Just where do you think you're going?"

"I'm gonna use your bath."

"Oh no you're not! You go find someone else's bath to use. I'm quite sure one of your mates will let you."

"But yours has jets," he wheedled.

"I'm going to use it. You go find another," she said firmly.

"But Kate," he whined. "That's not fair. You got to watch me. Can't I at least watch you get in?"

She blushed furiously. "Damn you! I was not watching," she denied.

"Uh huh. Whatever you say. Come find me in the pub when you're done. I'll give you two tics and then I'm ordering for both of us. I could eat a horse and chase the jockey. Okie dokie?"

"Okie dokie."

Kate bathed, dressed and did her hair in less than an hour. She discarded her working clothes in favor of something a little softer. Experience had taught her to pack for anything, including the need to dress up a bit. She loved the color of the claret silk blouse, and left it undone to the third button so that anyone who cared to look down her shirt could see not only the rise of her breasts, but also the top of her black lace bra. The short black leather skirt hugged her rear nicely, she thought, giving it a satisfied pat as she looked in the mirror. Kate thought herself average in looks, but many men had told her she had great legs. Black riding boots completed the ensemble. She gathered the sides of her thick hair back with an antique gold clasp, etched with flowers, which had belonged to her grandmother. She left the rest of her hair down. A ruby drop pendant, a gift from her father, nestled at the top of her cleavage.

The final touch was the silk scarf, the only designer item she owned. Black with deep red roses, shot through with gold threads, she tied it so the point hung down over one hip. It was a gift from an Italian journalist, with whom she had an affair. It was brief, ending after she realized that he gave many gifts to many women.

Wolf whistles met her entry to the pub. There was no missing her; she was vivid. She wanted to turn and flee, immediately deciding the outfit had been a big mistake. Boisterous Aussie males stood three deep to the bar, all holding VB tinnies. Some had beards that looked like they might house small varmints.

It seemed like there were twice as many men than she had seen her entire four days in Dinner Plain, and almost no women. She tried not to look frantic as she scanned the room for Russell. She heard him before she saw him, his voice booming out the punch line to some ribald joke for a very appreciative audience. As she stepped further into the room, she saw a partial reason for the lopsided bloke to sheila ratio - the women had clustered around Russell like ants on a sack of sugar.

Jake saw her first and was at her elbow with a beer. "You look lost little girl. Don't you know there're wolves in these woods? What the hell are you doing dressed like that?"

She gratefully accepted the beer. "I don't know what I was thinking. I'm going back and change."

"No, no, don't. You look great. Don't worry. I'll help you beat back the mob. Have you ever seen such a pack of unwashed mountain men?"

Kate looked beyond Jake and saw Russell approaching. The malevolent look on his face did not bode well. "Uh, actually I'm here to meet the actor. Remember him?" she asked.

"Oh no, not that idiot again. Come on Kate, you're too smart for an actor. He will bore you to tears. Remember that one you dated in San Francisco ..."

"Here he comes now," she interrupted. She put herself directly in the path between the two men, raising her voice over the noise. "I'm surprised you seem so well liked by these guys," she addressed Russell. "There must be ten times as many men and yet, you managed to steal all their women," she said, trying unsuccessfully for levity, willing him to look at her and stop glaring at Jake.

He gave her the once over but did not smile. Seeing her up close made him even more agitated. It seemed to him that every man in the pub was leering at her. Her point about attention from the opposite sex was lost on him. The fingers on his right hand opened and clenched reflexively. "You look good, Kate," he acknowledged.

"Good?" interjected Jake. "She is the hottest looking babe in here. Is that the best you can do, slick? Good?" The glaring contest resumed.

Kate looked at Jake sharply, with the belated realization that he was slurring. She could not recall ever seeing Jake drunk before. "You remember Jake, my friend and colleague of some years?" She tried to emphasize the description to Russell.

He gave the slightest of nods. "I've got a table held for us over there, by the fire." He was about to propel her away.

Jake stuck his hand out, right under Russell's nose. "How ya doin'?" Jake asked, determined not to let the actor blow him off again. Russell shook it firmly. "Kate and I were just talking about what happens when smart women date stupid men," he said. Kate looked from one to the other with growing alarm.

"She's with me tonight, mate," Russell said.

"She's a good friend of mine and I don't like your attitude," spat Jake.

Kate turned to Jake. "Don't," she said firmly. "I'll talk to you tomorrow." She took Russell's hand and tugged. He hesitated a long moment before putting his hands on her shoulders and directing her through the crowd to their table. She looked back toward the bar but Jake was not where she had left him.

"I'm sorry. I have no idea what that was all about," she said.

"I've got an idea," he said testily. "He is hoping to start something with you."

"You don't know what you're talking about. I've never seen him act like that. I hope he is okay," she said, looking back toward the bar again.

"Well I don't give a fuck how he is and I'm not going to invite him to join us, that's for cert. I didn't get into a blue with him at the bar because I want this evening to be special, but I'll tell you what, if that dickhead talks to me like that again ...."

"You have it all wrong," she said in exasperation. "He is gay."

Russell laughed in disbelief. "You must really think I'm stupid!"

"Not stupid, just... you don't understand! I told you, we've been friends a long time and he has never once hit on me. In fact, he acts like my big brother. Is it possible he is concerned about you for some other reason?" she cocked her head.

Russell frowned. "Like what?"

"Well, like you've moved in on me awfully fast?" she asked. "That and he has this strange mistrust of actors," she added, waving a hand dismissively at the idea.

He arched one brow. "That's not so strange." He looked around impatiently. "You stay right here and don't move. Tell anyone that tries to chat you up that you're here with me." He stood and walked off toward the kitchen.

Kate nursed her beer and ruminated about men and territorial behavior. She looked around the room. Was she imagining it or were people looking her way, their heads close together in speculation. It seemed the exchange between the men had sparked interest. She thought seriously of finding the women's room and going out the window.

Russell returned with the waitress scurrying behind him, carrying platters of steak and potatoes. "Thank you darlin'. And will you take a beer to that Yank at the bar, love? Ta," he said.

"I don't think he stayed," said Kate.

"Good oh," he replied. "He's not missed." It was several minutes before he noticed that Kate was showing less enthusiasm for her meal than he was brandishing on his. "What's wrong?" he queried. "You don't like it? I'll get you something else." He looked around for the waitress.

"It's fine," she said glumly.

"Now, don't be like that. You're gonna wreck my meal. Tell me what's wrong. You still mad about that poofta?"

"Don't call him that!"

"Oh you know that one, huh? How about pansy?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "It's just that ... you have no right to act like this."

"Like what?"

"Like ...." She struggled for words "You're acting like a stallion defending a brood mare. You don't even know me."

"I was and will continue to protect you from these ockers. I saw them ogling you. They were slobbering all over themselves. I know you must've heard them because I did - it's how I knew you'd finally got here. They don't see many sheilas that look like you. Even the blokes from the Sydney crew, they'll crack onto you first chance they get. And before you ask me why I think you need protecting, it has less to do with you and more to do with them. Did you get a good look at these blokes?"

"Okay. I think you overreact, but okay, I get it." She pressed two fingers to her temple where it had begun to throb. "What is an 'ocker'?" she asked.

"An ocker is an uncultured bloke who likes footy, beer, and women, in that order. And as for your photographer, he was cracking onto you. I don't give a damn if you are friends. I know all about friends. That's how my affairs begin and end, too, when I'm lucky," he said. This speech did not improve Kate's disposition. He watched as she pushed her food around her plate with her fork.

"Give me your hands." She did and he began to caress them. "Please don't be upset. Some angel dropped you out of the sky here for me. I am completely taken with you. That is why I'm acting like this. Give us smile then Kate?"

She smiled a little. "You're far too charming. Jake is probably right."

"Jake is an idiot." He looked back at her almost untouched plate. "Now hop into your grub. You're going to need the energy." He shot her a sly look and went back to eating.

He had cleaned his plate of everything but a piece of gristle when he pushed it back, and patted his stomach. "Feel better?" she asked.

"Massively. Let me introduce you to some people," he said. They made a tour of what seemed to be every man and woman in the place. He had a funny or interesting anecdote of everyone from the leading actress to the make up woman to the horse trainers to the camera crew. He spent equal time talking to each of them. Several mentioned the nights when he had brought out his guitar to play and sing for them. One of the horse trainers also played guitar and Bob the cameraman played harmonica. Judging by the number of requests he received, the singalongs had been very popular. "Not tonight," he declined repeatedly, his arm around Kate's waist, giving her a little squeeze.

Kate felt overwhelmed by the attention at first, but as they made their slow progress through the room, she began to relax. His need to maintain constant physical contact embarrassed her at first. It implied an intimacy they had not yet shared. As he persisted in toying with her hair, resting his hand on her hip, and twining his fingers with hers, she wondered if he was simply marking his territory. As the night wore on and he continued to listen intently to her words as well, she finally decided he wanted her to know that he was involved. It was enormously flattering. She had never felt so fascinating.

Russell admired Kate's open manner with new people and the ease with which she could talk to seemingly anyone. As the night went on he found himself talking less and listening more. He was feeling slightly lightheaded and wondered whether he ought to slow down on the beer or if it was just the way the light danced in her eyes. He also began to feel impatient to have her attention all for himself.

"How long are you going to sit on that beer?" he asked, interrupting a particularly lengthy and involved conversation she was having with one of the horse trainers.

She looked at the bottle she had forgotten in her hand. It was half full and lukewarm. "I've really been too busy talking," she replied happily. "I've had a wonderful time." She swayed slightly to the music coming from the big juke box in the corner.

They had been there close to three hours. "Night's not over yet," he said with a twinkle. The toad that had been hopping around in her belly during their supper returned. He took her stale bottle away to the bar for a fresh one.

She began talking with the actress, Caroline, who played the mother in the movie. Kate liked her. She was beautiful, but also very happily married and was one of the only women whom she had not seen flirt with Russell. Caroline excused herself, it was nearly midnight and she was due on the set early the next morning.

Kate realized, looking around the room, that over half of the crowd had left. She guessed that Russell must be tired too, with the early schedule he kept. She spotted him by the jukebox. Stevie Ray Vaughn's guitar roared into "Pride and Joy". He crooked a finger, beckoning her. She nearly skipped across the floor. It had been so long since she had been dancing. With one hand clasping hers and another on her hip, he swung her into a lively two step. He twirled her, giddy with laughter, through Mary Chapin Carpenter telling him to "Shut Up and Kiss Me." The songs changed to smoky rhythm and blues. Al Green crooned "I'm So Tired of Being Alone," and Kate decided she was too.

Russell slid his hands low on her hips, swiveling them in slow circles, showing her what he wanted. He nodded in time to the music as he watched her. Their awareness of anyone else in the room disappeared. Kate felt reckless and wanton, seducing him with her dance, thrilling to the message in his eyes that said he could barely wait to get her alone. Marvin Gaye preached the gospel of "Sexual Healing," as he spun her out and back again, mashing her body to him, his desire pressing stiffly against her belly. Then his hands were on her bottom, moving her hips in time with his. He let her dance away from him for only a moment before pulling her back in close. He dipped and swung her so low that her hair swept the floor. This is easily the most fun I've ever had on a dance floor, she thought.

His busy hands untied the scarf at her hip, holding the ends and sliding it slowly back and forth across her swaying bottom. Kate felt like Salome doing the dance of the seven veils. As the song ended, Russell placed her scarf around his neck and pulled her to him with a hand on the small of her back. Patsy Cline confessed she was "Crazy" to give in to a love like this. They began to slow dance like she had not done since high school, turning in a tight, slow circle, more of an upright embrace than a dance. He alternated light, tender kisses on her willing lips with searching her eyes for something she hoped he found.

Without really meaning to, he was singing softly in her ear. "I'm crazy for feeling so lonely. I'm crazy for feeling so blue. I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted and then someday you'd leave me for somebody new." Her arms went around his neck as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "Worry, why do I let myself worry, wonderin' what in the world did I do? Crazy, for thinkin' that my love could hold you."

Damn. That hard and that fast, mate, he thought. He wound her curls around his fingers. I was not looking for this now. The timing is all wrong. Someone could get hurt. "I'm crazy for crying, crazy for trying, crazy for loving you." He sang the last of it to her and leaned his forehead against hers, holding her still and close.

Kate was trembling. Too much, too fast, she thought. One of us must stop this before it's too late. She stepped back, prepared to say good night. Russell gripped her shoulders and drew her to him, kissing her fiercely, and driving any thought of stopping from her mind.

When they finally parted, he took hold of her arm and led her out of the darkened room. Everyone else had gone. They stepped outside and a blast of cold air hit them. He wrapped an arm around her as she began to shiver, hurrying her along the veranda. He took her key and unlocked the door. The room was cold. He began poking around in the fireplace. He got the fire going and crouched down, staring into it. He feared if he looked at her, the spell would be broken and she would send him away again. Finally, he could stand it no longer. "Am I staying?" he asked over his shoulder, his voice gruff with the rawness of his emotions.

She felt suddenly shy. It would be easier if you would just grab me and take me, she thought. Then I would not have to be responsible at all. "You're going to think I'm easy," she said.

He slowly turned to face her. "Never," he said solemnly, hand on his heart.

She laughed softly. "I've never done it this fast."

"Never? No one night stands?" he asked, crossing the room toward her.

"Nope."

"Hmmm... well, how many dates does it take? I mean, usually?" He took her hand.

"At least three, and that was only once," she said quickly, "usually more than that."

"Well, let's see...I took you riding up the mountain. We had a picnic, and you finally let me kiss you," he said.

"Finally? I'd known you all of two days!" she exclaimed. "It's awfully cute that you try so hard, but then I bet you know that. All right, let's count that as one date."

Encouraged, he went on. "Today I showed you my athletic prowess. Tonight was a real date. Dinner and dancing."

"And you sang to me," she said.

"And I sang to you. That's just two dates then? Seems that should count for more, doesn't it?"

She could not think clearly when she looked in his eyes. "This just feels awfully fast," she sighed.

"Then we'll wait," he said, his hand on her bottom, pulling her in close.

"I'm supposed to leave the day after tomorrow," she said. The realization made her feel ill.

"Find a way to stay longer. My birthday is at the end of this week. At least stay for that," he asked.

"Make it easy for me?" she breathed. He took her in his arms and kissed her again. "Yes. Stay. Just don't stop," she murmured as his kisses trailed from her lips and into her neck. She did not want a chance to think anymore.

They began frantically pulling clothes off each other. They broke their kisses only for desperate looks at fingers fumbling impatiently with stubborn buttons and zippers. He got her down to her underwear, walked her backward to the bed and let go. She dropped the rest of the way.

"Whoop!" Kate shrieked, her eyes large with surprise as he looked her over lasciviously. She curled up on top of the bed in her black lace bra and panties as he pulled off his jocks. His face in shadow, the firelight outlined his muscled frame. She sucked in a breath. "Damn. You're even better naked."

Russell crawled across the bottom of the bed toward her. She almost recoiled. He looked so predatory, like a wolf coming to eat her up. His silky hair and beard glowed red in the firelight. His aquamarine eyes shone otherworldly as he moved with feral determination. "I was just going to say that about you, but you're not there yet, are you?" He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pulled them ever so slowly down over her hips and off her long legs. He knelt before her, the muscles in his arms and torso flexing and growing long again. A light sheen of sweat made his skin look as if it had been polished.

Her skin glowed golden in the warm firelight as her hair splayed out in red gold waves on the pillow. She made him think of one of those pin up girls from the Forties with her long, silky legs, full hips and high, round bottom. Her full breasts felt just right he thought, cupping one in his palm. He loved all types of women, they all had something to recommend them, but right now he was appreciating this one very much. "You're wet," he said, dipping a finger within the red triangle of curls between her legs.

"I want you in me now!" she pled.

"Ssshhh... there's no rush."

"The last three days have been nothing but foreplay! I'm ready!"

"Well I'm not."

She reached out and gripped his large, rock solid cock, jutting out stiffly from his chestnut curls. Her look said she did not believe him.

"I want to play with you," he purred. Placing a hand on each knee, he spread her legs apart. His head fell forward and she felt his velvet tongue, lapping at her softly. He slipped two fingers in and began pumping rhythmically while continuing to tongue her. He held fast as she moaned and thrashed. The pleasure built to an almost intolerable level. "Russell! Fuck me! Please!" she begged. Her thighs began to twitch. "Baby! Please!" Her belly began to jump. "Goddamnbastardsonofabitch you're killing me!" she screamed as she clamped her thighs around his head and exploded in his mouth. Wave after wave of the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced rocketed through her.

Kate returned slowly to consciousness and realized she had locked him to her. She quickly released her knees. He withdrew his fingers as her spasms subsided. He raised his face, wet with her honey, and softly chuckled. "Good?" he asked needlessly.

"Damn. I've never screamed before," she said weakly.

He stretched out over her, crushing her into the bed. She felt him nudge at her slick opening and she wriggled, trying to pull him inside. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled over, flipping her on top of him. He undid her bra and her breasts spilled out, into his face. He reached to cup them, making them bounce a little. "Oh yeh, lovely... you little beauty...." He began suckling fervently. First one, then the other, then he switched back again. She moaned and ground her mound against his warm, lightly furred belly. His hands spread out across her bottom squeezing and kneading hard enough to make her squeal. This excited him and he smacked her bottom, hard. She squealed again and for a second he thought he was going to shoot off. He pulled at her nipples very gently with his teeth, biting a little harder as she reacted to his rough play.

Kate thought she might go crazy from the pleasure. "If you don't stop that I'm going to come again," she warned. "Please baby. I want to feel you inside me."

He released a nipple long enough to speak. "Come for me Katie. I'll make you do it again." He returned to his exquisite torture of her breasts.

She ground her pelvis against him wantonly. "You are so big ... so warm ...so strong ... oh, yess...," she moaned as she came, her body shaking in spasms of pleasure.

He held her breasts tenderly, savoring her erect little pink rosebuds. "Look at that," he whispered reverently. She was exquisitely sensitive and he was enjoying playing her like a fine instrument.

"My turn," she said and kissed her way down his chest, coming back up to press his arms over his head. She loved his arms and had not been able to stop looking at them since he had stripped off his shirt. She gently bit and sucked at his biceps, which made him chuckle. She straddled his torso and held his hands in place. She nuzzled into his neck. He jumped, laughed and tried to roll away. She kept nipping at him, diving suddenly into his armpit. He erupted in peals of that delightful giggle. He tried to shove her off, but weakened by the tickling, she managed to pin him down for several seconds as she ran her tongue in circles through the downy hair, inhaling his musky scent.

"Stop... that!" he gasped. "Stop! You perve... hee hee hee...you bitch...Stop it! I'm gonna pee!" She showed brief mercy before nipping down his side. He began yelping and jumping again. Gooseflesh covered most of his body. She straddled him, gently stroking his still stiff cock, warm and satin smooth in her hand, as he recovered. She touched the glistening drop at his tip, encircling his head with the sticky wetness.

He caught his breath and looked at her like she was crazed. "What the fuck was that?"

"I don't know. Once you started giggling I couldn't stop." She shrugged. "I'm done, I promise. I want to blow you." She started to slide down his body.

"No. I wanna fuck you until you can't think at all." He felt as if he had been waiting an intolerable time for this. He grabbed her hips, and with one swift movement, lift her up and impaled her on his shaft. The shock ripped through Kate. She had never been taken so forcefully and unexpectedly. Russell lay still beneath her, watching the changing emotions run across her face. He loved that she was so transparent. He feared for a second he may have hurt her, but then Kate moaned and began to buck on his shaft.

Russell looked from her lust glazed eyes down to where they joined. His tongue peeked out, wetting his bottom lip. He looked back at her flushed face. Fucking incredible. She was riding him like a horse. She clearly loved sex as much as he did. He could already feel his climax building in his balls. Too fast! He grabbed her about the waist to lift her clean off.

She pummeled his chest with her fists. "No! Put me back!"

"I don't want to get there without you," he said, and pulled her down so she was lying on top of him. He raised his hips and reentered her with one deep thrust. His mouth sought hers and soon they were moaning into each other. He was so strong that she could no longer control her own movements. She let him manipulate her, enjoying the feeling immensely. She was like a little doll in his big hands. He completely overpowered her, as he pumped upward. Before long, she was shuddering and moaning in another intense orgasm. He felt her tight walls spasm. He crushed her against him in a fierce hug, grunted softly once, and shot waves of hot seed into her. He continued to slide her up and down along his length, sighing, "so good, so tight, sweet Katie," until he softened and slid from her.

Kate slipped off and nestled into his side, under his arm. He rubbed his face in her hair, breathing her in. "I'm so glad you're here with me," he said softly, then fell instantly to sleep. Kate moved carefully from his side. She freshened and pulled on the big T-shirt she slept in. Good thing he liked it, she thought, because she could not stand to sleep in those frilly nighties anyway. The fire was dying down and she pulled the big warm quilt up over them. She spooned into his side and was soon asleep as well.

Sunlight was streaming in through the windows the next morning when Russell awoke. He blinked in confusion, trying to recall where he had spent the night that was so damn bright in the morning. He knew it wasn't the hut. Lifting his head, he saw his flame haired angel curled on the pillow next to him. He felt under the quilt, making contact with her naked bottom as memories from the night before played in his mind. He woke with a raging erection and knew just what he wanted to do with it. He pushed up onto his hands and knees and straddled her still sleeping form. He had just hiked up the hem of her sleep shirt when he glanced up at the clock.

"Fuck!" He sprang out of bed and grabbed his pants. Six already! He should have been on set by now. Someone would be at the hut, looking for him. He scrambled into his pants and boots. He opened the door and ran out onto the veranda, his open shirttail flapping in the chill morning breeze. To his great relief, the SUVs were still there. He could still catch a ride if he hurried. A few of the crew exited the cafe, spotting him.

"How you go Rusty? Sleep well?" One called. The others laughed. "Kiss her good morning and get your ass down here if you want a ride. We're heading out."

"Fuck!" he said to no one in particular as he stalked back into Kate's room and shut the door. It occurred to him, a little late, that he should be quiet and let her sleep.

He did not want Kate to be embarrassed, and yet, he realized some good might come of people knowing they had slept together. He liked leaving no doubt among the blokes that he had claimed the American beauty. The other benefit was that it would get back to his girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend, he reminded himself.

One of her cousins was working as a grip on this crew. It would be all over the bush telegraph within the hour that he had a new lover. That should make things cleaner and easier. It was always hard for him to end it. It seemed a waste. He preferred to stay friends, when he could manage it. That way if they were to meet up later on and there was a chance to have a bit of fun, why not? But he knew better this time. There was no way she would take him back now, between the way he'd acted the last time they fought and his very public new fling.

He found Kate's writing pad on the desk, flipped to a clean page and left her a hurried note. He tiptoed to the door and slipped outside. He ran and caught a ride just as the last SUV was backing out.

Kate heard them go. She had been lying there awake, listening to him, since he had fondled her bottom. From the stomping and swearing, she guessed that he was late. She hoped that was not her fault. She pretended to remain asleep to let him get away. Flipping back the quilt, she got out of bed and ran across the ice-cold floor to the bathroom. On her sprint back to the bed, she saw the note and grabbed it. Snuggling back down into the warmth that still smelled of him, she read it.

Kate,
Sorry I didn't get your cuppa this morning.
I have to run. I'll come back for you later today.
Find a way to stay and give me a happy birthday.

xxx Russell


Kate dressed and went over to the cafe to get coffee and breakfast. Only a few customers remained after the crew left. They smiled and greeted her with a pleasant, "How you go?"

All except for the friendly waitress, whom she remembered from before. The young woman was giving her evil looks. Kate guessed it had something to do with Russell, and she did not want to find out any details. She took her breakfast to go.

She finished the story she had come to write and posted it to her editor at the front desk, which doubled as the local post office. Then she began calling around to see if there was any interest in a story about the horses. Close to noon, she found a buyer.

"I was wondering when you'd come sniffing around," she greeted Russell on his return later that day.

"Did you find my note?" he asked.

"Yes I did." She put her arms around his neck. "You trying to start something with me?"

"Yes I am." He cradled her face in his hands, kissing her softly at first, then deeper. "How am I doing?" he asked.

"I have good news. I found at least two magazines that are interested in a story about the brumbies. So I can stay." Russell hooted and scooped her up, swinging her around. "Put me down!" she cried. "You're highly excitable, you know that?" she asked.

"How long?" he asked, letting her feet touch the ground.

"I don't know. This isn't big money, but it buys me a little time. I have some savings anyway. Let's just see how it goes, all right?"

He frowned. "Will you stay until we finish filming?"

She gave him a look of mock exasperation. "You asked me to stay for your birthday this morning! How much longer will you be filming?"

"Six or seven weeks."

Her jaw dropped. "That's a long time! I do have a life, you know."

"They won't need me for several days coming up. There are places I'd like to take you," he said as he stroked her arm.

"Let's take it a day at a time?" she asked.

What am I doing with this man? she wondered. I'm going to hang around here just long enough to fall really hard, then go home and be miserable for months trying to put him behind me.

Kate suddenly felt very foolish. "You must've been really lonely before I showed up."

"Yeh, that's it. I make a fool of myself over every girl that crosses my path just 'cause I can't stand to be alone. For fuck's sake, do you think you're the only woman up here?" he asked indignantly.

Kate laughed. "Well, yes... almost!"

A comical mix of emotions crossed his face. "I reckon you're right." He shook his head. "No you're not," he said, wagging a finger in her face. "Here's the deal. I could always go into Melbourne on the weekends if I'd wanted, plenty of sheilas there, but I didn't. I try not to have those sorts of distractions when I'm working." He ran a hand over his face and sighed. "Okay, I'll cop it sweet. I was getting lonely. But I was not looking for anyone just now. I mean, I just got my heart stomped on again, for fuck's sake," he finished, sounding defensive and wounded.

"Oh right. And remind me again how that happened? You cheated on her, so she told you to go get fucked?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back.

There was a slight but detectable tightening around his jaw, and then his face went completely blank. "How am I supposed to tell you things if you're gonna throw it back in my face like that?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," she said.

He hesitated a moment. "You're a cheeky bitch," he chuckled, letting it go. He gave his watch a quick glance. Still enough time, he thought. "I don't want to fight with you," his voice turned to a caress. Bob Dylan warbled on her CD player. One brow cocked. "Do you always listen to this hippie music then?"

"Hey man, don't be dissin' Bob. You only wish you could write songs like that."

He sang along with Dylan on Just Like a Woman.

"That's pretty good," she laughed at his uncanny impression.

"But she breaks, just like a little girl," he sang, and knocked her over, onto the bed. He wriggled his fingers into her ribs, tickling her.

"Oh look!" she laughed. "Imagine my shock! Hee hee! We're on the bed!"

He lift her shirt and blew a raspberry on her belly. No!" she squealed. He kept tickling. "Stop!" she cried, almost in pain. She tried to roll away but he pinned her arms. "What? Hee hee...is this payback for last night?" she gasped. He growled and nipped at her too sensitive neck. She screamed and he clamped his hand over her mouth.

"Jesus!" he laughed. "You're even more ticklish than me." Her brown eyes blinked at him, bright and enormous above his fingers. He slowly removed his hand.

"Are you going to fuck me into submission?" she asked breathlessly.

He bit his bottom lip. "I was thinking about it," he admitted.

She could feel his heart thudding heavy in his chest, crushed against her heaving breasts. She kissed the tender spots just beneath his eyes, where his cheeks had flushed with sudden passion. She wanted to kiss every tender spot on him. "I dare you to try," she breathed.

In an instant, he had his fly undone, and her jeans completely off. He grasped a knee in each hand and pressed them back toward her ears. He penetrated her completely with one deep, quick thrust. Kate moaned and thrashed beneath him, trying to wrap her legs around his back, fighting for traction, but he pressed his palms flat against her thighs, pinning her open against the bed. He stroked into her feverishly, jarring the breath from her body. She continued to struggle for a better position on him, but he held her fast, open to his view. He was completely preoccupied watching what he was doing to her. She cried out in frustration, catching his attention. He fell forward over her, giving her the friction she sought. She cried out as she came, raking her nails across his back.

"Fuck me swinging," he muttered as he shuddered and pumped his climax into her. His thrusts gradually slowed as he relaxed, completely spent from the ferociousness of their coupling. He let go completely, mashing her beneath him. It was wonderful for about a minute, and then she could not breathe. She gasped and shoved hard against his chest.

He rolled away and propped on his side, facing her. "Too fast?" he asked.

"No. Intense," she panted. "Wow." She smiled. "You win, I submit."

"I'm crazy about you, you know?" he asked as his heart slowed and his breathing returned to normal.

Kate wanted to believe him. "Yes, but I think you like feeling this way."

"What's that supposed to mean?" His brows gathered, drawing parallel lines about the mole there.

"You're a romantic. I think you like getting swept away," she said.

His frown deepened. Clearly, she was not convinced. He got up and fetched his cig pack. He pulled one out and lit it, watching her pensively. "Are you suggesting that I manufacture my feelings for you?" he asked. His mood had shifted from passionate to distant in the same time it took his exhaled cloud of blue smoke to float toward the ceiling.

"Look. I said let's take it a day at a time and I meant it. I'm not looking for declarations. It's all right," she said.

"No. It isn't all right. Not with me." He stubbed out his cigarette. "But maybe you'll believe me in time." He walked to the door and said over his shoulder, "I've got to get back. We're filming at the river. Get your boots on. I brought Golden for you."

They saddled up and started out to that afternoon's shooting location at a slow trot. Russell was still wound up after their exchange; a condition that suited him well for performing. Echo fed off his emotional state and began pulling at the bit. Russell let him have his head. Kate let Golden go as well, as the mare did her best to keep up. The riders tore across the landscape toward their destination, urging their mounts on.

The trainers led the horses away when they got there. "That was fun," said Russell. "I can tell you've ridden all your life," he said admiringly.

"You're not so bad yourself," she said, smiling shyly. The run had helped dissipate the strange energy that had arisen between them at the hotel, but she was still keenly aware of the eyes of others. I wonder how he stands it? she mused.

Kate found a safe place to watch, well out of the way of the crew. Russell's first task was to ride Echo through a series of long shots while the cinematographer rode a parallel path on a truck bed with the steadicam. From Kate's perspective, it seemed highly monotonous. She had difficulty imagining how it would translate to the scene Russell had described.

After more than two hours of this, the crew moved over by the river's edge. She was keeping herself as inconspicuous as possible. Russell waved the dresser away and walked toward her, unbuttoning his shirt.. With a wink, he handed it to Kate. She felt as if he had hit her with a spotlight and she squirmed inwardly under the glare.

"For fuck's sake! This is cold enough to freeze my nuts off!" Russell complained loudly about the temperature of the water as waded into the river. When the camera rolled, however, he made it look like a pleasant, refreshing dip. She smiled, remembering their discussion that first morning in the cafe, about bare-chested scenes.

Over the next few days, Kate interviewed the horse trainers. She also made sure she was around to see Russell film his scenes. He was great fun to watch. He was supposed to wash the dog and sing a little song. It should have been simple but the dog kept shaking and spraying him with water, to everyone's amusement. Each night, they returned to the hotel together and he slept in her bed.

A week into Kate's adventure, they stayed late at the hut to film night scenes. The caterers came out and set up for the evening meal. Everyone took a supper break and then went back to work. A whirlybird was set up to make it look like there was a downpour. Russell flailed in the muddy corral, screaming about escaped horses. Kate thought the overall effect was less than dramatic but kept her opinion to herself. When they finally wrapped for the day, he was soaked and freezing. He stripped off the sodden green sweater and wrapped in a towel.

As everyone packed up, he laid a hand on her arm. "Stay," he said. No one offered her a ride back this time. They went inside the tiny cabin and he stoked the fire. He rummaged through his things for a dry pair of jeans and flannel shirt, but he was still shivering after changing his clothes. He pulled his bedroll down off the bunk and spread it on the floor in front of the hearth.

"Come here," he beckoned. "I can't get warm." He wrapped his arms around her and they sat huddled together, leaning against the bed, looking into the fire. "Tell me the truth," he asked. "It looked stupid, didn't it?"

"What?" she asked innocently.

He turned so he could look into her eyes. "The truth."

She reached up and ran a hand through his hair. It was still damp. "Yes."

"Fuck." He flopped down, resting his head in her lap.

"Well, at least it's a kid's film," she offered lamely. She could see he was truly chagrined. "I'd love to see your other work," trying to distract him.

"Proof came out last summer. It's not at the flicks anymore," he said.

"Is it out on video yet?" She looked around the tiny cabin. "Ah, well, no VCR anyway," she deadpanned.

"What? Like I'm some kind of megalomaniac who carries his movies around on tape?" he asked defensively.

Kate smiled, stroking his hair. "Oh, I don't know. If I'd made movies, I might carry them around with me. I think that's pretty special." Something tickled her memory. Her best friend loved indie and foreign films. She was always dragging Kate to see them. "What was the other movie you were in?"

"Which one? I made Hammers Over the Anvil at the end of last year. It will premiere in two months. If you stay, you can see it," he toyed with her hand.

She ignored him. "No, no, this was over a year ago. There was this Aussie film my friend made me go see ..."

"You have a friend who makes you see Aussie films?"

"Yeah," she chuckled. "The writer I told you about - the one who edits my bodice rippers? She's always dragging me to some indie or foreign thing in one of the little art houses downtown." Kate squinted down at his face, and then her eyes flew open wide as the memory returned. "Oh my God! I think I saw you!"

He sat up. "In what?"

"I can't remember the title. But you wore white pants. Very tight white pants," she frowned in concentration. She had not thought much of it overall. She had liked him quite well, especially in those pants. She remembered he had a very intense scene at a dance. But then there was that unfortunate ending involving racing a train. It was so melodramatic that she made rude remarks under her breath, which irritated Barbara no end.

"I liked it," she lied. "I thought you were terrific," which she meant.

He studied her a moment. "Don't lie to me or I can't trust you." He was stung. He felt he might never give a better performance than the one he gave in The Crossing.

"Okay. I hated it," she admitted. "But I did think that you were ...hot." She pursed her lips and blew out.

"I don't understand why Proof gets all the recognition. That role required so much less of me," he groused.

"Well I haven't seen that yet, have I? I thought you were very good in parts, but I thought that story was just ridiculous," she said emphatically.

He scowled. "Not that you're a critic."

"Hey! You asked! Besides, that's a fault with the script, right? Not you." She ran her fingertips through his curls and then over his beard, tracing the cleft in his chin. "You look so different now. I didn't make the connection."

He hated contemplating her impression at this point. "I don't like to watch myself, but I wish you could see the two I just did," he said miserably, then reconsidered. "Although you probably won't like the one about the skinheads either." He looked away, annoyed. This was not going as he would have liked. How in hell am I going to convince her it's worth sticking around if she thinks I'm some two-bit .... He brightened, remembering about the gig coming up in Melbourne. "At least I can show you my other talent this weekend."

"I've already seen that," she said dryly, "but I'd like to see it again."

He laughed. "No, I mean we've got a gig. My band mates are coming." He stroked her face with his fingertips. "At least you think I do something well?"

She turned and kissed his hand. "I'm very excited about hearing your band. I love your voice. And I can tell it's important to you."

"I've talked about them that much, have I?" he smiled. He felt his passion stir to life again as he traced her ear, her cheek, and down along her collarbone. Kate's pulse quickened as his hand continued its descent, cupping a breast. Her nipple stiffened as he flicked at it. He unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off her shoulders. The fire had warmed the cabin comfortably.

He toyed with her breasts while they kissed until she was so aroused that she was wriggling against the seam in her jeans. He stood up, pulling her hands to stand with him. She unbuttoned his shirt, smoothed her hands across his chest, and pushed it off his broad shoulders. He bent to kiss her again and her breasts flattened against his chest. He reached for her fly at the same time she reached for his and they laughed.

She waited as he undid hers and slid her jeans and panties off her hips and over her round behind. She stepped out, reaching next for the buttons at the bulging crotch of his jeans. He had not been able to find a dry pair of underwear. He sprang into her hand, unobstructed, as she undid his fly. She kneeled, gripping his prodigious shaft, and traced the rim with her tongue, looking up at him. She took him slowly into her mouth, tongue lathing his sensitive underside. Russell moaned, watching intently as he disappeared between her full lips. He twined his fingers in her hair, shining red gold in the firelight, and pulled her head further onto him.

She grabbed his rear with both hands, as she alternately swirled her tongue around his head and took him deep in her throat. He was swelling larger with every thrust and quickly losing control. She held on, trying desperately to stay with him. His hips began to buck, causing his shaft to hit the back of her throat. Kate's eyes watered and she started to gag. She released him briefly, quickly wrapping one hand around his base, and caressing his balls with the other as she eased him back into her hungry mouth. Her hand kept time, pumping him.

He reached out and steadied one hand against the wall as his knees nearly buckled. His breathing grew more ragged as he felt his climax build. "I'm gonna come," he warned, and released his grasp on her head. "Better stop, love."

She made a lewd slurping sound and squeezed his balls gently, looking up, into his eyes. The expression on her face was easy enough to read. She had no intentions of stopping. He groaned, "Oh God. So good, that is so ... aahh!" He thrust as deep as her hand would allow him, and pumped his seed down her throat. She gulped, trying her best to swallow it, but he kept pulsing, far beyond what seemed possible. She pulled off, gasping for breath, when it seemed he had at last finished. His still stiff member twitched at the sudden transition from her warm mouth to the cold air. One last jet shot out, striking her mouth, and dripping obscenely onto her breast. He shuddered at the sight and caressed her head reverently. "You made my knees weak!" he gasped. His essence glistened on her lips and dripped down her chin. "Nasty girl," he cooed, as he crouched down beside her, wiping her face tenderly with his shirt. He kissed her swollen lips, tasting himself there.

Kate chuckled when she saw what he was holding. "Hey, those flannies come in handy, don't they?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd like it if I used my jocks."

He lay down next to her on the bedroll and hugged her to him with one arm, the other propped behind his head. She shivered and he pulled the covers up over her naked backside. She snuggled her head against his chest and ran her hand over his lightly furred belly.

She had fallen into a light sleep, secure in his embrace, when he woke her by gently rolling her onto her back. His tongue traced lightly around her breasts, down over her belly, along the tops of her thighs and back again, repeating the path until her nipples rose stiff and hard. He tugged one between his teeth. The combination of the soft and rough touches was beginning to make her crazy and she squirmed with pleasure and impatience. He moved downward until he knelt between her legs. He traced her inner thighs with his fingers, stroked her wet slit, and twirled her little curls around his fingertip. He dipped one, then two fingers inside, pumping gently, then more vigorously as she arched her back and humped against his hand. She felt his hot breath, delicious against her sex, and then his velvet tongue, licking steadily at her nub until she came, spasming on his hand and crying out his name.

He leaned back against the bed and she was surprised to see he had another erection. "Come here," he instructed in a throaty rumble. She crawled to him. He maneuvered her into position so that she sat in his lap, facing him. Kate leaned back, supporting herself on her hands and wrapped her legs around his back. He took hold of himself and stroked against her slit, getting wet. He wrapped her in a bear hug, pulling her toward him. Kate leaned forward, sliding down his stiff pole. Both held still for a long moment, as she grew accustomed to him filling her so completely. Russell began to rock gently forward and back. Kate tightened her legs around him, held onto his shoulders, and began to move with him.

"That's it love, c'mon..." He breathed into her ear. "So tight, so good...." She had another delicious climax, sitting in his lap, impaled on him. He moved his hands over her hips, encouraging her. "C'mon love, don't stop now." She began to move again.

"Talk to me," he said.

"You want me to talk dirty to you?"

"Yeh," he breathed.

"You think I'm that kind of girl?" she asked.

"Yeh." A little smile. "C'mon. Talk to me." He was getting close.

Kate leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his chest, and spoke softly in his ear. "I love how strong you are. I love it when you take me rough."

Russell planted his feet on the floor and took firm hold of her hips, pulling her onto him as he thrust upward. "Oh yeh," he sighed. "Tell me a naughty story Katie."

"I wanted you to fuck me that first night, when you took me riding, holding onto two big stallions," she continued, warming to his request.

"Mmph!" He buried his face in her neck.

"I wanted to get naked with you out in the sunshine that day at the lake," she purred.

"Ungh!" he grunted. He was perspiring now, hair turning to ringlets at his neck as she licked inside his ear. "More," he begged.

"Your cum is the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. I'll blow you whenever you're randy. Where ever we are. Just open your fly and hold my head down."

"Aah!" He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her backward until she was lying on her back with him on top. She hooked her heels around his hips and lift to meet each powerful thrust. His biceps bulged as he pounded into her brutally.

"More!" he demanded, looking angry in his intensity.

"That's it baby, nail me to the floor. C'mon and fuck me. Harder!" she cried. He was making her bottom thud against the floor of the cabin. She dug her nails into his back. The lewd talk turned her on as much as it did him, but his aggression totally unhinged her mind.

"Uh...unh...oh...my...God...you're...killing...me!" She squeezed her eyes closed as she thrashed beneath, head tossing side to side as she clamped on, holding him deep inside.

He thrust in to the hilt and held his breath, thinking desperately about footy scores until she calmed. Then he began to move his hips in slow, small circles. All sensation condensed within her to the spot where he was grinding. "Look at me," he said hoarsely. She opened her eyes and saw his raw need staring back at her. "I love fucking you." She spasmed again as her eyes rolled back in her head.

"I want to keep you," he said when she regained consciousness. His tongue probed her mouth as he thrust deeply one last time, his warm jets pulsing into her. He shuddered and slowly stroked a few more times before withdrawing and turning over onto his back.

"Talk to me like that every time, okay?" he asked.

"As you wish," she said sleepily.





Kate woke to feel his stiffy poking her rear. He nuzzled into her hair. "Mmm...you smell like flowers."

"You snore."

"Nah, that's just a vicious rumor."

"No. It's not." She wriggled against him.

"Well then. We'll have to get you some ear plugs." His arm pulled her in tighter and he pushed his erection firmly against her bottom, in case she had missed the message the first time.

She turned and frowned at him. "You don't want to do that now. I'm all sticky from last night. I need a bath and some coffee."

"Sticky works for me," he said huskily. "Ever heard of sloppy seconds?"

"Eeeww... get off me!" she chuckled. But the more she moved, trying to get away, the more aroused he became. He threw one big leg over both of hers, trapping her under him. In the next instant, he was mounting from behind. "Tell me it's okay" he said into her ear as she felt the fat tip nudge her open.

"It's okay," she said, her voice muffled as he unwittingly mashed her face into the pillow.

He thrust home. "So tight," he hissed between clenched teeth.

Kate hated to admit it, but there was something very satisfying about letting him use her like this. She tried to raise her face from the depths of the pillow so that he could hear her. "You're just a big stud horse, aren't you?"

"Fuck!" he groaned. "I love it when you talk like that."

He could live without sex, he reckoned, at least for awhile. A few months even, if he had to. But now that she had let him take her, he couldn't seem to think about anything else. He worked a hand beneath her, rubbing small insistent circles on her nub. They struggled together, him panting in her ear and trailing wet kisses across her shoulders, her moaning into her pillow, until he felt her spasm around him. He followed close behind.

Kate was sore in the saddle on the ride back to the hotel. She looked across at him. "I think I'm injured."

He shot her a look that said he was not sympathetic. "You know you loved it."

"Well I'm having one last hot soak before I have to give up my wonderful tub," she said as she tied Golden to the post out in front of the hotel.

"I never get to go on holiday. We've got five days to play," he said happily. He was not needed while they filmed the mother and daughter scenes and looked forward to the return to civilization. It offered a chance to play music with his mates and to get to know Kate better. He was certain they would get on great in Melbourne and then he could convince her to stay on even longer. He was whistling as he went off to get their breakfast.

Kate was less confident. Up on the mountain, they were safely suspended in time, separated from the rest of their lives. Down in Melbourne, she knew he planned to introduce her into more of his world. So many things could make it all come apart. She sank deep into the steaming water, letting it fill her ears, trying to block the sound of her thoughts.

"Here. You can have your brekky in the tub. What could be better?" he asked, setting her plate on the side of the tub.

Kate startled hard at the sound of his voice, splashing and sitting up abruptly. He handed her a coffee mug. She took it and sipped, looking at him accusingly. "What? Is it my fault you're nervous as a cat?" He sat on the edge of the tub eating his breakfast and ogling her. Then he stripped off his clothes and got in at the other end. She was mildly annoyed, wishing for a few more minutes of privacy. It seemed he had held her constant attention since their meeting. Inside two minutes, he was playing find the soap.

That's it. I'm out of here, she thought, and stood. She stepped out of the tub and grabbed for her towel, covering herself quickly. She was dressed and ready to go before he got out. Russell was not nearly so modest. He rubbed himself down vigorously with a towel while talking about his plans. He walked about with it slung low around his hips while she packed her case, wearing her down with his continued references to their holiday.

"So now that you've got me so excited to go, how about you put some clothes on before I attack you and delay our trip," she said.

"We could go a little later," he offered.

A car horn honked outside. "Time to go!" said Kate.

They loaded their gear into the back of the SUV and took off. Jake was supposed to catch the bus back to Melbourne and then a flight that night. Kate pressured Russell into letting Jake ride with them in the SUV instead. Russell was not happy, but did not want to risk an argument. He rode up front while Kate and Jake sat reminiscing about past adventures all the way down the mountain. It annoyed him tremendously. When they got into the city, the driver stopped at the hotel first. They piled out of the car and Kate and Russell pulled out their luggage.

Jake turned to Kate. "I'll see you when you get back then?" She nodded. "When do you think that might be?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"I really don't know. Why? Are you worried about me?" she asked sarcastically.

"What you do with your life is your business," he answered somewhat stiffly. She searched his face in surprise. Was he upset? "Jake...."

"No really, I find it ridiculous you'd even ask me that. Of course I'm worried about you."

"Well ... you've no reason to be!" Kate sputtered. "I'm just a little nervous."

"I can see why," he said, shooting a baleful look toward the lobby.

"Don't judge me," her tone cut him off.

He took her chin in his hand tenderly. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. What if this guy turns out to be a jerk? Are you going to be able to get home okay?"

Kate bristled. "I know how to take care of myself."

Jake kissed the top of her head. "Anyone ever tell you you're cute when you're angry?"

"Get out of here," she said, lightly punching him in the arm, uncertain why her throat felt so tight.

She waited at the curb, waving until the SUV was out of sight. Then she went to look for Russell, who had wisely decided he should have no further contact with Jake. He handed her a key.

"Thanks. I'll settle up with you when we check out," she said.

"No worries. This is on me," he said and strode off in the other direction, carrying both their bags. She hurried after him. He pressed the button for the elevator. A white haired couple walked up and joined them, waiting.

"Oh no you don't ..." she began to argue but stopped short when the older couple looked at them. The elevator opened and the four of them got on.

"Oh yes I will," he said firmly. The doors slid closed. "It's the least I can do, upending your life like this."

"You've done no such thing," she said quietly, darting a furtive look at the couple.

"Yes I have! You'd be on the plane back to California now if I hadn't talked you into staying."

"I'm capable of making my own decisions," she said, wondering why she was saying that so much today.

The older couple smiled at each other. "Our daughter lives in California," said the man. "She went there for a job, fell in love and stayed."

"You must miss her," said Kate, trying to adapt gracefully from arguing with Russell to a four-way conversation.

"You know they are going to grow up," said the woman with a resigned but peaceful smile. "The hardest part is that we have to fly fourteen hours to see our grandson."

Russell jangled his room key. "I figured two rooms would be a waste," he said with a wink, oblivious to the other couple. "I'd just be in yours all the time anyway." Kate wished she had a large sock to stuff in his mouth.

The elevator door opened. The couple stepped off, the woman turning back at the last second. "Sometimes we take a chance and pray for the best. Good luck to you both," she said. The doors slid closed.

Russell arched his brows, and then looked at Kate as if to say, what was that all about?

"I can't get used to how friendly everyone is here," Kate mused, staring at the door. "I've never had this many total strangers start intimate conversations with me"

"It's you," he said, sliding his arm around her. "You're easy to talk to."

"No it isn't. It's different. You'll see." She briefly imagined him dealing with the people in New York or Los Angeles. "And I don't think you're going to like it," she said.

"Well I'm going to have to find out sometime, aren't I? If I want to make anything that gets shown outside Oz that is," he said. "By the way, I asked for a better cabin for us for when we go back to Dinner Plain too. You know, with luxuries - like running water," he chortled at his own wit.

"Us?" she repeated.

"Yeh. If you're staying, you may as well stay with me, I reckon."

"What about staying in touch with your character?" she managed to ask with a straight face.

"Fuck that. My scenes at the hut are done anyway." He pushed the door open. It was late afternoon, and the stormy sky made it seem even later. They took a quick survey of the room.

"This beats the pants off Dinner Plain Hotel," observed Kate. Imposing mahogany antiques furnished the room. The wool carpet was a fruit print reproduction, and cranberry glass lamps cast a rosy glow over it all. "Did you see the pressed tin ceiling in the bar next to the lobby? Gorgeous," she said appreciatively.

"I'm glad you like it. Come try the bed," he offered from the middle of the grand four- poster. He patted the space at his side. "It's comfy."

She eyed him cautiously. He was awfully cute, sinking into the lacy pillows, the candle wicked canopy floating over his head like a fluffy cloud. She was tempted to go to him, but still tender from the previous night and that morning. "I saw a lot of lovely old buildings down the street when we drove in. How about if we take a look around?"

"It's going to rain," he predicted. "Not a good night for a walk."

"Oh come on," she cajoled. "Aren't you getting hungry?"

He sighed and sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. "As you wish."

They walked down the street, admiring the buildings. The community was dedicated to preserving the Victorian era architecture. Russell had recently spent time in Melbourne and told her all he knew about the history.

The wide choice of ethnic cuisines was almost overwhelming after the lack of choice in the high country. They had been walking around for close to an hour, idly nosing into the shops, trying to decide on a place to eat, when it began to rain lightly. He directed her into a Tai establishment. "This place is good."

The restaurant was noisy and full. Red paper lanterns hung from the ceiling and tantalizing aromas steamed from black lacquered boxes on the tables. After they ordered, he regaled her with tales of walking about in public in his skinhead guise. "I used to come in here with the Doc Martins on, head shaved, the whole deal, and order lunch three times a week. No one wanted to serve me. I hated feeling like that, but it was also fascinating to see how people react to me."

"I would have wanted to hide. I don't think I could have gone outside," she said, pouring tea into both their cups.

"No, I couldn't hide. I had to know what that was like, you know? This bloke I was playing, he loves power, he's very dominant, so I had to go out there and experience that."

"I work hard to get there, you know? Sometimes parts of the character don't shake loose so easily. It was toughest at the end of the day when I was alone. I'd look in the mirror and see myself covered with these ugly, hateful tattoos."

"I can see how that would bother anyone. I mean, you seem like a sensitive soul." He smirked. "I meant that in a positive way," she said.

"And that's how I took it," he said, eyes dancing.

"Is it hard to come back from that place? I knew this one actor who ...."

He cut her off, not wanting to hear about any other actor she had known. "No. I know who I am, so that doesn't worry me."

"But how did you stand it? People thinking you were really a fascist, I mean."

The impassive mask he used to guard his feelings returned. "You don't really want to know about this."

"Yes I do,' she insisted.

"I'm not as good a person ...that is, I hate to spoil your positive view of my sensitive soul," he hedged.

"What? You enjoyed it?"

He tapped the end of a chopstick against his palm, trying to decide how much to say. "No. I felt like scum. And when you see it - they all get what's coming to them. I wouldn't have done it if I felt like it condoned that sort of thing, you know?" He hesitated again, running his hand through his hair. "But ... the power ... it was... yeh, a bit of a rush. Heady stuff, you know? Not that I'd want to live my life like that, that's not the point. But I could understand the thinking... how they get off on that."

"Did you really think that would surprise me?" she asked gently. "Like it's a surprise that there's a part of you that likes being dominant and in control?"

A slow smile curved one corner of his mouth. "Fair go. You never like to be on top?" he asked.

Her cheeks pinked. "Sometimes." He chuckled and squeezed her knee under the table. "Tell me more," she asked. Kate was fascinated and continued peppering him with questions about his process as they ate. Russell was candid, enjoying her interest and seeming lack of judgment.

She looked at him intently. "It's going to be controversial, I expect. Have you done the press for this movie yet?"

"No, we do that right before it's released, later this year."

"Don't tell an interviewer what you told me - about enjoying it," she said.

"I know how to handle that, ta," he started to bristle.

She held up her hand to stem his impatience. "I don't mean to be telling you your business but I know how those guys operate. They'll club you with your honesty."

"I almost forgot you were a journo," he said with a chuckle.

"That's because I'm not interviewing you. We're just two friends talking."

"Is that right?" he asked. "Just friends?" He took her hand, turning it over, and kissed her wrist.

She shook her head, grinning. "Incorrigible."

"I've been called worse," he said. The tip of his tongue appeared and flicked across the same spot. She snatched her hand back, giggling.

"So this is really what you want to do on your birthday? Hang out in Melbourne? What about your family? I always want to be with my sister and my dad on my birthday."

"I invited them to come down for a holiday but they can't get away. It's not even the busy season and they just work, work, work, you know? They run an inn in New Zealand. Every time I talk to them, something's broke, someone's quit, something's wrong. I'd love to see them get away from that." He shrugged. "What about your mum?"

"What?" she asked.

"You said you'd miss your sister and your dad but you did not say your mum."

"She died when I was fourteen." Kate felt so close to him, it seemed strange that she had not told him much about her family, until she remembered she had known him less than two weeks. It only felt much longer. "My sister Beth is four years younger than me. I kind of took over for Mom with her. I think she resents me for it, the ungrateful little thing," she said with a rueful smile. "I guess I grew up fast then. Dad kind of fell apart for awhile. My mom was a schoolteacher. She was the focused one, the details person. My dad, I love him to death, but he's a dreamer. He's a veterinarian; he nearly lost his practice. He's alright now, but not the same. When she went, she took something, some part of him with her. He's never got it back." Kate sipped her tea, staring into it. "It scares me to think of someone meaning that much to me."

Russell nodded. "But think what you might miss out on. You have to leave yourself open to that, you know?"

"I didn't say I wasn't open to it. I said it scares me."

They left the restaurant and wandered down the street, arms around each other, looking into the windows. Kat wanted to go into a chemist's shop. She picked up a few sundries and found Russell on the next aisle, perusing condoms. She glanced about surreptitiously before whispering, "I'm on the pill."

"Yeh. I saw the packet in your kit."

"Oh. You looked in my - kit?" she asked, sounding mildly offended.

"Well it was just sitting there by the sink! And considering I've been on you like white on rice, I kinda needed to know if I needed a franger, you know?"

The man behind the counter folded his newspaper down and looked over the tops of his reading glasses at them.

She faced away from the man. "Jesus! Could you talk any louder?" she hissed.

Back out on the sidewalk, they passed a store with a sign in the window. Videos. "Wait! I want to go in here," she said and doubled back.

"What for?" he asked, bemused.

"There's a VCR in our room," she reminded him.

"There's a theater down the street if you want to go to the flicks. I'd like to see Far and Away," he suggested. He had seen the marquee as they drove in.

She screwed up her face as if a foul odor had invaded the store. "That came out in the States months ago. It sucked."

"It did?" he asked, disappointed.

"Let's just look and see. Maybe they'll have a nice romantic comedy for you," she said.

"There's nothing wrong with romantic comedies," he protested, noticing her sarcasm.

Kate had a specific film in mind. She found it at once and bought it while Russell was still looking at the titles.

"Hey! Purple Rose of Cairo! I love this," he said gleefully, holding the box up to show her. "What? You got one? What'd you get?"

She slipped the video in her bag from the chemist. "It's a surprise."

"What? Why can't I see?" He looked at her slyly. "Did you get a porno?"

"Ssshhh!" She scowled. "No, it's not a porno. Like you need any encouragement? You'd likely fuck me to death and then chase down the maid."

"That's not funny," he said sternly.

She darted a look at his stormy face. "Sorry," she said.

They walked together in silence for three blocks. Finally, he said, "If you want me to leave you alone, I'll get another room."

Her jaw dropped. "If I want you to leave me alone?" she repeated incredulously. "Honestly, your moods change so fast, I can't keep up. Where did you get that idea?"

"You seem to find my attraction to you very amusing, or a nuisance, or ...I don't know what." He stopped walking and turned to face her.

She shook her head. "No. You've got it all wrong. I'm feeling maybe ... a little overwhelmed? You don't waste any time."

"Streuth. I don't fart-arse about. Work hard; play hard; that's my way," he said.

"You are the best thing about this trip," she said but it sounded so inadequate to describe her feelings. "You might be the most fun I've ever had in my life," she blurted, surprising them both.

"Yeh?" he asked, clearly pleased with that confession. "Okie dokie then." It had grown cold. He put his arm around her as they walked the rest of the way back to the hotel. Multicolored neon from the row of pubs lining the street reflected in the puddles on the wet pavement. A different band played every few doors, the music clashing riotously in the street. They rounded the corner and he pulled her in tighter as the icy wind whipped her hair. "It's cold enough to freeze the nuts off a brown dog on a rusty chain at fifty yards before he's had time to eat his tucker!"

Kate burst out laughing. He kissed her forehead. "Feels like winter's coming early. We'll film snow scenes at Mount Hotham when we go back. You're going to get to see a real winter wonderland," he promised.

"I didn't say I was going back to Dinner Plain. I said I'd stay through your birthday - and that's this weekend. I've got two stories lined up at home, waiting for me." She did not want to have this conversation now when her judgment felt so impaired. She tried to attribute the giddy high she felt to being in a new place, completely out of her element, with a very charming man. New places are always exciting, she kept repeating to herself.

"You'll stay. I can be very persuasive."

"I'm freezing," she complained. Spying the hotel up ahead, she sprinted for it. "Betcha can't catch me!" she taunted over her shoulder, her red hair streaming out behind. He chased her for the last block. They were laughing and breathless as children as they burst into the warm lobby and ran to the elevator. Inside, as the doors slid shut, he groped inside her open coat, seeking warmth. He planted tiny kisses on her face, continuing to fondle her all down the hall, pausing only long enough to open the door.

Kate walked across to the bed and opened her bag. "Let's watch this." She turned, startled to find him directly behind her.

"Later," he said firmly, knocking the bag onto the floor. He pushed her on to the bed before she had a chance to react. Her eyes focused on the unexpected sight of the canopy above his head. He covered her body with his, nibbling in her neck, working his tongue in her ear. Then he was kissing her, pulling at just her top lip, then the bottom one, before completely possessing her mouth with his.

She stopped thinking about the room or the video or anything but how he felt on top of her. Big. Warm. Animal. She was so high on his kisses that she was unaware he had removed half her clothes until she felt his skin on hers. He alternated between groping her and pulling his clothes off. By then Kate was eager to help remove what remained between them.

Russell rolled off and stretched out on his back. Kate kissed her way down his body, the light dusting of hair on his broad chest tickled her lips, as her fingers tenderly outlined each rib. "I can see your heart thudding," she murmured, then kissed her way lower, across his belly.

As she reached to grasp his throbbing member, he pushed her head down with one hand and pulled at her hips with his other. "Come here," he growled. She straddled him and gasped as his tongue found her sweet spot. She flicked her tongue over his tip and slid him slowly into her mouth. Russell moaned, his hips rising off the bed seeker a deeper place in her throat. She quickly felt as though she could suffocate and grasped his base as she had done before. She catered to his auditory inclination, slurping and moaning to lewd effect. He pumped his fingers in and out of her opening and lapped at her nub. They remained locked just so, mouths working at each other's sex for a long time. He felt her moan her ecstasy around his shaft, as the pleasure became too intense and she exploded on his tongue. She let him slip from her lips briefly, fearing she might bite him as the climax tore through her and she lost control. As the spasms subsided, she took him in her mouth again. He shook her gently. "No. Come here." She turned around, waiting for further direction. "Ride me," he commanded. He squeezed her breasts, her flesh spilling out from between his fingers. He held her upright as she slid onto him.

"You want me to ride you like a big stud horse?" she asked in a sultry tone. He groaned, briefly shut his eyes, and then opened them again. "Yeh. Go on love," he panted.

She bent to his ear, "Did you see my pussy grasping for your cock when you made me come? That's your mare in heat." She sat up again, pistoning her hips up and down, milking him. Face flushed, he stared intently into her eyes. "C'mon, Stud. That's it. Harder!" she cried.

He grabbed her hips to hold her down onto him. His knees drawn up, his feet flat on the bed, he rammed up and into her. "Come for me Katie," he rasped.

By now trained to his commands, she felt the wave begin at her center and roll out over her entire body. He watched her, mesmerized. "Beauty," he murmured reverently. She made him feel immeasurably powerful. He pulled her down tight against him so he could feel her heart thudding against his as he came inside her.

They lay entwined, flushed and contented, softly petting one another as their breathing resumed a normal pace. He turned his head, squinting to see the clock, and spied her bag on the floor. He scooted to the edge of the bed until he could grasp it. He reached in and pulled out the video, holding it up to view.

"I told you. I don't like to watch myself," he grimaced and dropped it back into the bag.

"Fine. Then you go down to the bar and have a beer while I watch it. When you come back I'll tell you if you were any good," she said.

They had been too involved in each other to notice the red light blinking on the phone. Kate saw it as she sat up. With a pang of guilt, she picked up the receiver and checked with the desk. Her sister had been upset when Kate phoned her yesterday to say she was not coming home yet. Beth wanted to tell her about some drama with her boyfriend. It turned into a very expensive phone call for Kate. This time the message was for Russell. She went into the bathroom and tried not to eavesdrop while he returned the call from his friend.

"They're here. I'm going down for a bit. He brought my electric and my rock star pants. Good man," he grinned at some remembered shared joke with his friend.

"What exactly are rock star pants?"

"You'll see," he giggled.

He nuzzled into her neck, nipping gently at the tender skin there. "I'll be back later."

"Okay," she sighed, returning his kiss.

She went and turned on the shower, letting it get hot, a full cloud of steam rising from it when she cracked the door open and stepped inside. She let the hot water beat on her back, thinking about all that had happened in a very short time. I'm falling in love with him, she knew. Hell, I'm already there.

She washed her hair and finished her nightly routine. Then she went to put the video in the player hidden within the tall armoire. She climbed up on the bed to watch Proof, startled to see Andy when he came on the screen. He looked easily five years younger than the mature man who had just made love to her. Kate was mesmerized. He was good, much better than she had really expected. It was about a love triangle of misfits and she found herself completely engrossed in the story. When it got to the scene where the sweet but naive young man realizes he has been deceived and used against his friend, she wiped at her face, taken aback to realize she was crying. His face revealed a stunning range of thoughts and emotions without saying one word. She loved the whole film. She clapped her hands, happy and excited when it was over. He was wonderful! He was going to have a brilliant career! She could feel it. Kate was dying to tell him and had trouble settling down. Hoping he would return soon, she opened her book and tried to concentrate.

Russell came back to the room around two in the morning. He was in high spirits after time spent drinking with his mates. They were all looking forward to playing music again.

Kate had fallen asleep with the light on. Her book lay open, rising and falling on her chest as she slumbered peacefully. He turned out the light and gently removed the book. Her pale skin shone luminescent in the moonlight. "There is an angel in my bed!" he said quietly. She turned her face turned toward his voice, her full mouth slightly open. The thought, this is what she looked like as a little girl, crossed his mind. Followed by, Imagine how beautiful our baby will be. He shook his head to dispel the image. Whoa, mate, where did that come from?

He slipped in to the bed quietly beside her, thinking over the evening. It annoyed him when one of his friends asked after his ex- girlfriend, and caused him greater concern when another expressed sympathy that the relationship had not worked out. He tried to make it clear that he had moved on, hoping to prevent a repeat the next night when Kate was with him. He finally let the day's fatigue wash over him and drifted off to sleep, one arm cradled about her.

They slept late as the heavy drapes kept the daylight out. Kate woke first and slipped stealthily out of bed. While brushing her teeth she remembered the movie. She slipped back in bed and waited for him to wake. Russell blinked slowly into consciousness. "There's an angel watching over me," he said and smiled sleepily.

"Hey you. You did not tell me you were good."

"Well, thank you, love. You're pretty hot yourself." His hand cupped her bottom.

Laughing, she pushed against his chest. "Not that, you big goof. I watched your movie last night, remember? I was very impressed."

He rolled on top of her, pushing her shirt up over her breasts. "Mmm...uh-huh?" He tried to play it off as though it did not matter to him, but he was deeply pleased.

"You're not listening to me," she accused, her voice muffled from beneath the shirt he had shoved into her face. She pulled it off so she could see him. "You seemed so much younger. When did you shoot that?"

"Last year." He smiled. "I've grown." He waggled his brows.

Kate chuckled. "Yes. You have."

He twined his fingers into her hair, holding her head between his hands as he kissed her long and deep. Kate ran her hands over his arms and his back, savoring his strength as he took her. They rocked together gently, the pleasure and the tension building slowly. Her awareness narrowed until the feel of him was all there was and until finally, her little world exploded. He nuzzled into her neck, inhaling deeply, and wrapped himself more tightly around her. He tensed and sighed as his warmth flooded into her.

"Happy birthday," she said, as they lay together after.

Downstairs at breakfast, he told her of his plans for that day. They did not have a steady drummer yet. "The bloke who is sitting in with us for this gig has a place nearby where we can rehearse. We haven't played together in weeks, so we really need the practice. I want you to come and meet them," he said. "I'm very good at entertaining myself. Why don't you go on? You haven't seen them for awhile, I'm sure you don't really need me there." She sipped her coffee and watched him. She guessed he was eager for his friends to like her, but she did not want to be pushed on anyone.

"No. I want you with me. It's really kind of interesting, you know? We've been writing some new songs."

"I'm sure it is. And I'll get to hear it all tonight, won't I? Can't I please have a look around the city by myself for awhile? I need to do some research and this is a perfect opportunity. I promise. I'll be where ever you want me to be tonight." She saw his jaw tense and could feel his displeasure across the table. She sighed. "You're a palpable bastard when you want to be. I can feel you getting upset with me. Look. I don't want to be your groupie. Be glad. It gets old fast."

"My groupie?" he asked in amazement. "Is that what you think? I want to include you in my life. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing."

"Well how in hell am I supposed to do it if you won't hang about?"

"What is your rush anyway?" she asked, matching his irritability note for note.

He gaped at her a minute before recovering himself. "What's the rush? You've got me on a fucking deadline, and I don't even know when it ends. You could disappear on me tomorrow," he finished angrily.

reached across and clasped her hand around his. She hated to upset him. "You know I have to go home. I will not just 'disappear' on you. Do you really think I could get over you that easily? You have thoroughly possessed me, despite my best attempts to resist you." She had tears in her eyes. "What do you want from me? I can't make up my mind if you are safe shelter or the most dangerous man I've ever met."

He had not expected that, really had not known he was getting to her. He fiddled with his cig pack. "I dunno. I just want you to stay. There's something here, something I was not looking for right now. And it's got nothing to do with being lonely or randy or any of that. We won't know what it is, what it could be, if you go." He reached across and wiped the tears off her cheeks. "Don't do that. Let's not make it hard, you know? Just say you'll stay until filming wraps and then we'll see. Give it that long, okay?"

"No one should be this persuasive."

"Is that a yes?"

"Jesus, I can't believe it, but yes, I'll stay until filming wraps. Now will you please ease up a bit?" Kate chastised herself. What the fuck am I doing?

He lit a cig and sat watching her. He could not believe she had agreed to it either. It hit him for the first time that what should have been a quickie affair had now officially stretched into a romance of several weeks minimum. The thought,what the fuck have I done? was followed quickly by, I can't fuck this up.

He smiled and held the cig out to her. She laughed and took it. "You are bad for me! I can tell right now. This is not going anywhere good," she exhaled, shaking her head. "You're teaching me to smoke! How good an omen can that be?"

He lit another and scoffed at her, "What the fuck do you know? Look at us. I've never had a conversation this straight and to the point with a woman in my life. You don't bullshit and neither do I. We're great."

"Uh- huh." She choked.

He laughed at her. "Don't inhale like I do. Just blow it out." He arched a brow. "You're doing that like it's a joint. You smoke grass?"

"No. Well, not often. Why? You've any more bad habits you want to start me on?"

He seemed to find the whole conversation highly amusing. "Let me think on it." He stood, "We should get going. They're waiting for me. Come meet them at least. You don't have to stay." He put the money down on the table and picked up his guitar case.

"I thought we just agreed you were going to stop pushing me! What's that word you use? It sounds better than 'pissing me off'."

"Irrits."

"Right. You're given' me the irrits," she imitated him. "Really, I bet your friends would be happier to see you without me." She rose and followed him outside.

"Ha, is that what you think?" He hailed a cab.

"Yes it is." A cab pulled to the pavement and they got in. "I'll meet them and then I'm outta there."

"No, you have to stay and listen to at least a few songs. We love an audience, really. It's fine."

"Just do me a favor and don't make a big deal, okay? Let me fade into the wall?"

Kate tried to keep track of the streets, but was completely lost by the time they arrived at a house in the suburbs. He introduced her to all, affecting an announcer's voice he had developed working odd jobs. So much for low-key, she thought.

His mates were friendly enough and greeted her with smiles and a chorus of "How you go?"

Russell directed her into a chair in the corner. They were in a large living room, empty except for a few folding chairs, a sofa and a stereo along one wall. It took awhile, but eventually, they all found the same song. Kate thought they might knock her through the wall. The high volume and their powerhouse style of playing overwhelmed the tiny space. Testosterone drenched bar band, she thought, imagining the review. They warmed up with a few older rock standards, including a spot on rendition of ACDC's You Shook Me All Night Long. Russell paused to tell her which songs he and Dean had written together before they began. Then they went back to cover versions.

By early afternoon, she had a buzz on. Not much of a drinker to start with, the band had been "tipping coldies" since their arrival, and because she was nervous, she had a couple as well. Then someone passed her a joint. After they ran through their entire set list, Russell asked, "Does anyone have any requests? Any requests at all?" As if addressing a crowd. The band members called out various song titles. "Anything but that," he said to general laughter. He caught her eye. "How about it, Kate? Any requests?" he asked, cupping his hand to his ear.

One song had leapt to her mind the first time she had heard him sing. She blurted it out without thinking. "Come to Papa."

"What?" He was grinning broadly.

She suddenly wished she could just evaporate. "Um...you know, the old Bob Seger song, Come to Papa. It's perfect for you guys. And it's within your vocal range." The others hooted at this and slapped Russell on the back.

"Vocal range? Is that a nice way of saying I can't sing, love?"

The color had crept up Kate's neck to pink her ear tips. "Um, no. You just do well with the low belters, right? I mean, low and loud sounds better than high and soft, right?" More guffaws followed this. She looked at him anxiously.

"You're right, Kate, it's okay," he reassured. "So do you like that song? Or you just think it's within my 'range'?" His eyes danced with mirth, he knew he should not tease her here, but he could not resist.

Between the intoxicants and the way he held her with his eyes, she could not seem to close her mouth, although she wanted to, very much. "I thought of it when you sang to me the night we went dancing, remember?" He nodded. "It sounds sexy and masculine - like you," she said softly.

The laughter died off and she was aware that the room had grown quiet as the others fiddled with their instruments and pretended not to have heard her. Russell came close and bent low to her ear. "Thank you," he said and kissed the top of her head.

Then he went back to his mates, carrying on as if the conversation had never taken place. A few minutes later, Kate stood up, slightly unsteady, and slipped out of the room. She would have slipped out of the house as well, without a backward glance, if he had not followed her.

"Don't go, Katie," he asked. He guessed she might be feeling foolish and felt bad for teasing her.

"Just gonna take a little walk," she said.

"Let me call you a cab," he offered.

"No thanks," she said over her shoulder.

"Are you coming right back then?" he asked but she did not answer. "Don't get lost!" he called, watching her head off down the street. "Miss you already!" he tried. She kept walking. From inside the house, someone called his name. He thought about running after her. And then what am I going to do? Tackle her and drag her back into the house like some Neanderthal? He did not think that would go over well. He looked about. It was a nice enough neighborhood, he reasoned, no evident danger. He hesitated as she continued to move further away, wishing she would turn back. "Kate!" he called, but she would not turn around. When he heard his name called again, he turned and went inside.

The air outside was heavy with the smell of coming rain, but the autumn chill helped clear her head and cool the fever she had felt, trapped inside the house. She wandered down the neat suburban street without intent, but the further she walked, the more she felt that she could not face going back.

She wandered up one street and down the next listening for traffic sounds that would tell her she was near a main street. She remembered Russell give the taxi driver a Richmond address. The hotel was off Collins Street, but she did not know which direction that was or exactly how far they had traveled. It had begun drizzling again. Not the best season to visit Melbourne, she thought, composing a travel piece in her head. She was wearing a raincoat, but the wet still managed to get in around her neck. She rounded the corner at the end of a long street and came out onto Punt Road. She found a cafe, went inside for a "flat white" and asked for directions.

While she sipped her latte, looking out from the shelter of the cafe, the sky began to clear. She decided to walk a bit more. She meandered through Kings Domain as she followed the Yarra River. The ochre, amber and crimson palette was stunning. Autumn is a great time to visit Melbourne, she revised. This led her to Flinders Street Station where she picked up the tram that took her back to the hotel.

Back at the house in Richmond, the band members were slowly getting drunk. The insults and jokes increased in proportion to the decrease in actual playing. The drummer happened to have a copy of the Seger record. Russell scribbled down the lyrics. They played it through a few times. "What do you reckon?" he asked.

Dean shrugged, "Yeh. Why not?"

An hour later, they had it roughed out. Kate had not returned to the house and Russell was getting annoyed. He looked outside but there was no sign of her. The rain had picked up about then. "It's coming down like cats and dogs. Where in bloody hell is she?" he asked no one in particular. He called the hotel and had them ring the room, but there was no answer.

They continued to polish the number, trying to decide whether to include it that night or not. A few other local musicians dropped by to jam, but Russell could not relax and grew increasingly irritable. After he snapped at his friend once too often, Dean said, "Why don't you go after her then? You're no fucking good like this anyway."

Russell went into the kitchen to use the phone once more. If she doesn't answer this time, I'm going out to find her, he thought. And when I do, I'm going to spank her.

"Hello?" she answered, a little breathless. She had heard it ring as she was unlocking the door.

"You okay? You sound puffed," he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just got in. I told you I knew how to take care of myself."

"Good," he said, his relief quickly replaced with irritation. "Why didn't you stay?"

"I couldn't. I got too embarrassed. I said I didn't want to be your groupie and then I went and said those silly things in front of everyone. Just like a ... well, you know," she said, sounding very self-conscious still.

"What silly things? I don't remember," he said.

"You know! I said that I thought your voice was sexy and masculine and asked you to play that ridiculous old ..." She could hear him chuckling. "Oh! Very naughty!"

"So it wasn't just the weed talking, then?" he giggled.

"I really hope I didn't embarrass you."

"Now you are being silly," he turned away from the noise in the other room and spoke low into the phone. "I love the things you say. But I was worried when you left. Are you going to stay through the whole show tonight?" he asked.

"Of course I will." She paused. "I thought you guys were very good," she added shyly.

"I don't think I've ever had a groupie before," he said.

"Stop teasing me!"

"I think I'd like a groupie. Don't groupies give blow jobs?" he asked huskily.

She rolled her eyes, the pink stain creeping up her cheeks again. It took her a moment to find her voice. "I might."

"Cool," he bit his lip and twirled the phone cord round his fingers. He was about to say more when he turned and saw Dean standing in the doorway coyly imitating him. Russell flipped him off. "I'll be back later, kay?" he said into the phone.

"Okay. Have fun," she said, not wanting him to cut his time short because of her. "Bye."

"Bye," he said, and glared at Dean who was making kissy lips.

After her earlier adventure, she decided to stay in. There was a padded window seat where she could sit and watch the world passing in the street below. The sky stayed oppressively gray. She had not seen the sun since they had come down out of the mountains. She arranged some pillows behind her back and settled in, feeling snug with the memory of his voice still tickling in her ear. She had Van Morrison's soulful voice for company, on her portable.

Someone brought a keg to the rehearsal. Their playing grew louder and more discordant. Word of a good time spread fast, especially since the music, laughter and shouting could be heard streets away, attracting neighbors seeking free beer. It was becoming a block party, spilling out into the front yard. They played for the rest of the afternoon, reluctantly leaving only because they did not want to miss their gig. They piled into a taxi to ride back to the hotel.

Kate was pages from finishing A Town Like Alice, the Australian war romance by Nevil Shute, and thinking what a wonderful job Russell would do as the brave and chivalrous Joe Harman. She was so involved that she had lost all track of time. The CD had finished and she had not bothered to put on another. She had not even noticed it had grown dark outside. The little reading lamp above her head was the only light in the room.

The absolute quiet made the commotion at the door that much louder as Russell banged his guitar case against it and fought with the lock. "Fuck!" She could hear him, only slightly muffled from behind the door. "Kate!" he bellowed for help but just then the temperamental old thing gave in and he flung it open.

He had to pee desperately but stopped at the sight of her. Her red gold hair had gone curly in the damp air. Backlit by the lamp before the darkened window, she appeared to be wearing a halo. "Like an angel," he said, thinking again of things heavenly, before recalling his mission.

After finishing in the bathroom, he exited, and flopped on the bed. He employed his most engaging smile and crooked a finger, beckoning her near. Kate crossed the floor to the bed but remained just beyond reach of his outstretched hand. She could smell him fine from there. He reeked of beer, cigarettes and salty-sweet sweat. His hair was a mess and he was grinning deliriously. Quicker than she thought him capable in his inebriated state, he sat up and hauled her on top of him. Wrapping her in a rough embrace, he held a finger to his lips, as if about to tell a naughty secret.

"We had a bit of a shivoo," he breathed with only the slightest slur. The alcohol vapor on the last word made her blink.

"You don't say?" she asked in mock astonishment.

"Yeh," he exhaled, and bit her ear while groping her breast.

"You've already had a lot of excitement today," she said, trying unsuccessfully to dodge his hands. "Don't you think you should save yourself for tonight? What time do you go on?"

"Ten. Hafta be there by nine." It was six o'clock. "I don't wanta wait," he protested as she succeeded in wriggling out from under him. "I've been thinking about that groupie thing since I called you." He grabbed for her but she was quicker and rolled out of reach and off the bed.

"I'll play groupie for you later, I promise. Why don't you have a little rest and I'll get you some dinner. You're going to want to clean up too."

His disappointment was brief. "This bed is very comfy," he sighed. "I'm gonna go for a little kip then," he murmured and closed his eyes. Within seconds, he was asleep.

She changed into jeans and a leaf green sweater with three- quarter sleeves. The color offset her copper hair. The v-neck showed cleavage without being too obvious. After touching up her make up, she called for room service.

He slept stretched out on his back, arms behind his head. At eight o'clock, she laid her hand on his chest and began to shake him, gently, "Russ, wake up." He did not respond. She pressed him more firmly. "Russell, wake up, you've got to get ready." There was still no reaction. She stood with her hands on her hips, surveying him. She smacked her palm down hard on his chest. "Russell! You wake up right now or I'm gonna get your mates in here and I don't even want to know how they deal with you!"

His eyes shot open and he stared, unseeing, at the canopy. He blinked into focus on her face. "What the fuck was that? Did you just hit me? What's wrong with you?"

"You wouldn't wake up! It's after eight."

"Fuck!" He leapt off the bed but stood frozen, still disoriented.

"Calm down! You've got time. Go take a shower. Maybe that will wake you up," she hid a smile behind her hand.

He caught the movement and scowled. "What's so fucking funny?"

"You," she replied. He skulked off to the bathroom.

The phone rang just as the shower came on.

"Yeh. Can I talk to Russell?" inquired a male voice. The caller did not bother to identify himself but Kate thought she knew his name.

"He's, uh, in the shower," she said a little self-consciously.

"Good. Did he go for a kip?"

"That's a nap? Yes."

"Good. We're heading over to the club now to set up. Make sure he has more than duck's dinner, okay?"

"What?"

"He should eat."

"I've got it right here," she said, glancing at the covered dish on the desk.

The caller put his hand over the receiver and said something. There was muted laughter. "Kate is it?" asked the caller.

"Yes."

"You're a good woman, Kate," he said.

"Thanks. I think," she said.

More muted comments and laughter. "Are you coming tonight, then?"

"Yes."

"Good. Can you get him here by nine?"

"I'll try."

"Ta."

"Bye," she said and hung up. She looked at the phone a moment, pondering the call. She felt uneasy, like she was interchangeable with any number of women in a hotel room.

Russell came out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind him. A towel was tied around his waist and he was rubbing his hair with another. "Did I hear the phone?"

"Yes. He said they were going to the club and asked if you could be there by nine," she relayed.

"Anything else?" he asked absently. He lifted the cover off the dish. "You're a good woman, Kate," he smiled.

"So I've heard. You two have a kind of yin yang thing going on. It's an interesting friendship," she said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just an observation. He wanted to know if you'd slept or eaten. I would have thought it was your mother, but the voice was too deep. Actually, I thought he was kind of sweet," she added to soften her words.

Both brows arched. "Sweet," he repeated, pondering the description. He pulled off a piece of bread and popped it in his mouth, chewing slowly. "He's known me a long time," he offered at last. He sidled up to her and fingered her sweater. "You look beautiful. Hm. This is soft." He pressed his torso against her back, rubbing himself against the fabric like a cat.

She turned around and laid a preventative hand on his, just as he was reaching for the towel at his hip. "No time. Later. Go put your clothes on," she said.

"That's twice you've knocked me back today," he sulked. He opened the closet, took out a pair of pants and a shirt, and tossed them on the bed. She went into the bathroom to check her make up. When she came out, he spread his arms wide and turned to show off his ensemble. "Like my strides? Rock star pants."

"Yes they are." She was stunned. He looked terrific in the black leather pants, but it was a shock after the weeks of seeing him in jeans and flannel, or the riding pants and baggy cotton sweaters from wardrobe. "They look great. Now, that shirt, that's ... something else," she said. There was no tactful way to put it. It was silver satin with a tiny pink floral print. He had left it untucked, completely ruining the effect of the pants. She went to him and lifted the hem of the shirt for a better view. "Oh my God," she said looking at his rear. "Sweet Jesus!" she said, looking in front. She let go of the shirt. "Right. Leave it untucked."

He grinned and kissed her lightly, careful not to muss her lipstick. "Aw, you're going to make my head swell," he giggled. "Come on, let's go." Clasping her hand and carrying his guitar case, he towed her along in his wake.

The cab stopped in front of The Esplanade Hotel. "Wow," said Kate, looking up at the white behemoth. She had not anticipated that they could draw a large enough crowd to fill such a hall. They walked through the open doors of a large, darkened room. Kate looked at the gold leaf walls and intricate moldings in open admiration. "It's beautiful. Where is everyone?"

She turned to find him surveying the room intently. "This is the Gershwin Room. We don't play here. Yet."

"You don't?"

"No. Paul Kelly plays here. Come on," he said and exited back through the double doors. She followed him down a hallway, which opened onto another room, bustling with people and sound. She glanced inside but he kept walking. "That's the Front Bar. We don't play there either," he said, flashing a wry smile.

A flight of stairs, another hall, and they entered a much smaller room. At first glance, Kate thought it was only a bar, but then she saw the band members plugging in their equipment at the far end of the room. There were four musicians and a dark haired guy who performed tasks she did not understand, but he seemed endlessly involved with the amplifiers and lights. As they drew closer, she saw the small stage.

His mates took note of his new pants. One whistled. "Oi, oi, oi!"

"Look at the tall poppy!"

"He's proud as a rat with a gold tooth!" said another.

"Turn it up, you ockers. You would not know style if it grabbed you by the balls," said Russell.

Kate tried to be inconspicuous at one of the tables clustered at the side of the room. A rowdy crowd stood three deep at the bar, their attention focused on a rugby match on the television. Melbourne was playing. Wild cheers and backslapping alternated with howls of bloodlust and revenge. Russell brought her a beer. "We played here about a month ago. Got a decent reaction from the crowd."

It was quickly clear that would not be the case this night as they began tuning up. There were jeers from the bar. "Belt- up!"

"Match isn't over yet!"

"Can it!"

They ran through a few riffs. This was met by a chorus of, "Bugger-off!"

The band members looked at one another as if to say, now what? There was no sense in competing with the match, so they decided to wait it out. Russell set his guitar down and came to sit close by Kate. He put his arm around her, and although there was not much noise at this end of the room, he kept speaking low in her ear, tickling her ribs and stealing kisses when she leaned in to him to hear. He was normally affectionate but this was going a bit overboard, even for him. The reason dawned when she noticed him scanning the room, repeatedly. She took a deep breath, pushed down her annoyance, and wondered whether he even knew he was doing it. She reminded herself for the umpteenth time that it was a different culture.

The rugby match finally ended at half-past ten. Approximately half of the crowd collected on their bets and poured out of the bar, arms round one another, singing what Kate guessed could only be some team song. The band picked up their instruments and began to warm up again. Russell stepped to the mic and began to sing Billy Bragg's A New England.

I was twenty one years when I wrote this song Im twenty two now, but I wont be for long People ask when will you grow up to be a man But all the girls I loved at school Are already pushing prams

Several young women and a few couples moved to the tables around Kate and sat down to check out the band. Most remained clustered about the bar, loudly talking and laughing through the song.

I don't want to change the world
I'm not looking for a new England
I'm just looking for another girl
I loved the words you wrote to me
But that was bloody yesterday
I cant survive on what you send
Every time you need a friend
I saw two shooting stars last night
I wished on them but they were only satellites
Is it wrong to wish on space hardware
I wish, I wish, I wish you'd care

Kate wished they'd care too, frowning at the girls who were laughing and shrieking at each other. Russell introduced that evening's band members. "Alright! Why don't you all have a listen? This next one is a number Billy here and I wrote together and released as a single when we were in a band called Roman Antix. I'm sure you've never heard of it. It went straight to the bottom of the charts."

They started into, What's the Difference. Some of the girls got up to dance in front of the stage. Kate was a little unnerved watching them. They were clearly more interested in ogling the singer than in listening to the band. He played to it too, shaking his hips and growling out the lyrics. One of the girls turned around and began shaking her rear very blatantly at the band. Kate pursed her lips. At least they are paying attention to something, she reasoned, as she fought back the urge to jump up and shove her away from the stage.

The band followed with Shoulda Known Better, which Russell said was the single's B-side.

I gotta stand up
Face the facts
You're always gonna try and knock me back
I gotta stand up and face the facts
Well, I shoulda known better than that

Calls of "get rooted!" and "you suck!" continued to punctuate the set. Kate looked around at the small crowd with disappointment. She thought that the band sounded very tight. Russell was such a charismatic singer. She wanted to get up and dance with the other girls, but remained seated, too conscious of their hootchie-mama antics. A trio of young men approached her table, bottles in hand. "This seat taken?" asked one.

"Yes as a matter of fact, I'm holding this table for the band," she said.

"Band's on stage," he noted.

"For when they go on break," she said. "How about that one?" she asked, nodding toward the empty table right behind her. The young man sat down next to her, followed by his friends.

"Hi, I'm Tom. We're Americans," he shouted over the music. She could tell immediately that he was from the East Coast. Kate glanced at him then back at the stage. He took a swig of his beer, then stood up and turned his chair around. He straddled it, facing her and away from the stage. He doffed the ball cap he was wearing and held it in front of her face. It read NYU. "Ever heard of it?" he asked. "We're on summer break from class but it's like, winter here! Does it always rain like this?"

"I don't know," she said, eyes never leaving the stage. She felt a rising unease. Russell was staring at them intently.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" he persisted.

"I'm trying to hear the band, if you don't mind," she said firmly.

It failed to put him off. "They suck. So you're not from here either? You on vacation too?" he asked.

"I'm here for my work," she said.

"Oh yeah? What kind of work?" Kate would not respond. He turned around to look where she was looking. The singer appeared to be glaring at him. He looked back at Kate.

"You said you were with the band? That your boyfriend?" Kate ignored him. "I play in a band at home," he offered.

"Good for you. Listen, it's rude to talk through the set," she cut him off.

He made an exaggerated show of looking around the room. "Yeah? Well, you're the only one here who seems to think so."

Kate stood up and came around the table. "Excuse me," she said. Tom would not move and she nearly had to climb over him to get past.

"Hey!" he called but she was slipping into the dozen or so bodies on the floor in front of the stage. She timed it just right as the band started into the opening notes of Springsteen's Fire. The song lured the couples and a few more girls from their tables as well. Kate looked around and smiled. They were actually listening to the band. Kate looked back at Russell and quickly forgot about anyone else, mesmerized by the simmering sensuality in his performance.

I'm driving in my car, I turn on the radio
I'm pulling you close, you just say no
You say you don't like it,
but girl I know you're a liar
`cause when we kiss, fire
Late at night I'm takin' you home
I say I wanna stay, you say you wanna be alone
You say you don't love me,
girl you can't hide your desire
'cause when we kiss, fire

He ran two fingers down his shirt front and back up again, lingering at his nipple.

Kate gasped and clapped a hand across her mouth to keep from laughing in delight. His eyes met hers as she reacted. It seemed to encourage him since his performance became steadily more dramatic from then on.

You had a hold on me, right from the start
A grip so tight I couldn't tear it apart
My nerves all jumpin' actin' like a fool
Well your kisses they burn but your heart stays cool

There was a respectable smattering of applause and a couple of whistles as they finished the number. "Pretend this is your favorite fuckin' band and they're about to play your favorite fuckin' song," he began a patter, trying to drum up more enthusiasm. He was amusing and more people came inside the room. There were no tables left and the floor began to fill. They tore into Resurrect My Radio and more people started moving.

I'm going to tune into the 90s
Open up my window
Welcome whatever comes through
I'm going to resurrect my radio
If it's the last thing I do

When they finished, Kate put her fingers in her mouth and whistled. She was so excited they were getting a better response now. Russell smiled down at her and said, "Look. We've got a groupie." He looked around at his mates, turning to Dean, "And she thinks you're sweet!" Addressing the crowd again, "We don't usually do requests, but we're going to make an exception tonight."

She heard the girl next to her say, "He's spunky."

Kate nodded her agreement, "He's smokin' hot, is what he is."

The girl looked from Kate to Russell and back again. "He's looking at you. You know him?"

"Yes," said Kate proudly.

The bass laid down a pulsing line. Thumpa, thumpa, thumpa. The lead came in with a funky 70's style wah-wah riff. Russell stepped to the edge of the stage, pulled the mic out of the stand, and began a low and sultry vocal, ripe with insinuation.

If the sun, ain't shinin' bright
And the moon, the moon, the moon
Won't shine for you tonight.
If the stars in the sky go away
And you're feelin' real low down today
If life gets hard to understand
And the whole thing's getting out of hand,
Come to Papa
Come see your Papa

He ran his tongue slowly across his bottom lip. His left hand gripped his leather clad thigh as his leg pumped in time with the drumbeat. Thumpa, thumpa, thumpa. Kate caught herself gaping and quickly shut her mouth. In someone else's hands, it could have been campy, but Russell played it straight, and the result was knee- quivering sexual tension. The vocal turned to a lusty growl, becoming a keening howl of need near the end, sending shivers down her spine.

If you need a pacifier
Call me anytime
I'll try to be your satisfier
If you feel like a horse
Blazing at the bit
Call my number anytime, night or day
I'll get your fix

He whipped the mic chord around, swiveled his hips and tossed his head, milking it for all it was worth.Thumpa, thumpa, thumpa. He stepped to the edge again and leaned forward so he was staring into her eyes.

If life gets hard to understand,
If your life is way out of hand
Come to Papa
Come see your Papa

She dimly noted that Dean's guitar was very good, but she could not take her eyes off Russell. He radiated raw, male sexuality. Thinking back over things they had done together made her go weak inside. It had been very hard to turn him down earlier and now she was vibrating from her need. The telltale bulge in his pants told her the feeling was mutual.

"You lucky bitch," said the girl beside Kate, with equal parts envy and hostility.

The boys from New York, indeed anyone with eyes, saw that something was going on between the lead singer and the American redhead. Not only that, but the bastard seemed to be attracting the attention of all the local girls as well. It pissed them off.

"Play Freebird!" yelled one.

"Nice shirt, dude!" heckled another.

The Aussie girls and Kate, who formed an actual front row, now that there were enough people to fill the floor, looked back at them with disgust. "Get rooted!" shot a local girl. Kate recognized the next couple of songs as new ones they had written and been rehearsing earlier that day. The crowd's attention flagged a little at the unfamiliar music, but the three hecklers kept at it.

"Okie dokie, we're going to take a little smoke break now and we'll be back later," said Russell. He put the mic back in the stand and spoke briefly to each of his mates. He was pleased with how it had gone so far. It was a tough crowd, but they were used to that, and they had managed to win some over. Best of all was Kate. He had always used his music as a way to get girls, but he could not remember one ever being this enthusiastic. She was looking at him as if he was a god.

He stepped off the low stage and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "So? What do you think?"

"What do I think?" she repeated, eyes a little glassy. "I think you guys are outrageous! Jesus!"

He grasped her hands. They were shaking. "Glad you liked it," he smiled. He pulled her to him and planted a long, wet kiss on her, to the enormous jealousy of the local girls still watching. He stepped behind her where she could not see his face and grasped her by the shoulders. He spotted the college boys who had heckled him and made eye contact with the one who had been hitting on Kate. He flipped him off and then smiled dismissively.

"C'mon," he piloted her over to the bar, where the other members of the band were waiting. "Have you ever played a game called Beat the Barkeep?" he asked in her ear.

"No," she said. She was already high, and not from the half a beer she had left sitting on the table.

He wrapped a big arm across her breasts, pinning her back against him. "The game is to down the shot before he comes back with the change. If he gets back before you finish, you take another shot. Each player has to finish their shot, again before he comes back with the change."

"How do you win?" she asked.

"Process of elimination. If he punches you out, you lose. If you pass out, you lose, and the others get to clean out your pockets for the tab. The winner is the last one standing, still holding onto his dosh."

Kate frowned. "That sounds like a way to get totally wasted, very fast. Don't you have to go back onstage?"

"No worries. We only play the first half of the game now. We'll finish it after the show," he said by means of reassurance.

"How do you know when you're halfway through?" she persisted. He ignored her. "I don't like to do shots. Can't I just have a glass of white wine?" she asked.

"Fucking Americans always think they have to lead," he muttered. "Don't talk. Just follow me." He laid a note on the bar and signaled the barkeep, who poured him a shot of Jack Daniels. He downed it like it was water. The barkeep moved down the line as each member of the band did the same. On the second pass, Russell ordered one for him and one for Kate, again with a too large note. She picked up the glass and hesitated a second, preparing herself. He slammed his down then helped her hand tip the whiskey down her throat as well, a second before the barkeep returned. Kate coughed and gasped. Russell laughed.

Very quickly, she had lost count of the shots she had drunk and could hardly form coherent speech. Russell, however, seemed unfazed. The dirty jokes they were telling would have normally made her chuckle and roll her eyes, but now they seemed extremely funny. She was dimly aware of Russell rubbing up against her backside.

"My shout," he called to the barkeep, and laid down a large note. "I want to show you something," he said in her ear. Clasping her arm up to the elbow so she would not stumble and fall, he led her out of the bar, down a hall and into a dark, cavernous room. There was just enough streetlight coming in the windows to make out some long tables.

"What's this?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Dunno. I think they use it for parties and shit." He lit another cig and watched her, gauging her mood. "I can't go back onstage like this," he said and glanced down. "I can take care of it myself but I thought you might like to help me." He took a last hit off his cig and then flicked it away. He clasped her hands again, taking her with him, further into the darkened room. He backed up against a far wall and held her close. Then he kissed her, tasting one lip at a time, and darting his tongue into her mouth as she wriggled against him. He squeezed her bottom through her jeans and mashed her against his straining erection. "Would you like to help me Katie?" he purred.

"Yes, oh yes, sweet Jesus yes," she moaned.

He tipped his head back and closed his eyes as she licked at the hollow in his neck. Her tongue followed her hands down his broad chest, feeling the satiny softness of his goofy shirt, then inside across the light dusting of chest hair as the buttons opened under her impatient fingers. She fell to her knees and grasped his hips, lathing her tongue along the outline of his erection.

"I think I found out what gets you all excited now," he said as he helped her unbutton the fly and sprang free, already painfully stiff.

"What?" she asked, mesmerized by the sight of his cock bobbing inches from her nose. She grasped him at his base and swirled her tongue around the rim of his head.

He groaned and clutched a handful of her bright hair. "Instead of horses. You said it takes more than a horse to get you all excited now."

Her pink tongue flicked across his tip, licking at the crystal drop that had formed there. She paused, her lips parted and warm breath tickling him. "Oh. Well, I guess that all depends on the horse." She looked up to find him watching her avidly. "Come on," she whispered. "Don't hold back."

A growl rose from deep in his chest as he thrust into her open and waiting mouth. "Yes, oh god yes. Take me in your mouth," he panted as his hips jerked forward and back. He craved the release he knew she could provide. Kate wrapped two fingers and a thumb around his root as he stroked into her vigorously, but he still hit the back of her throat. Her eyes watered and she became anxious about choking. The adrenaline rush of performing excited him in many ways, and he was even larger than the last time she had blown him. She pulled back but not off. He groaned in frustration but stilled his movements. Kate took a deep breath and he felt her relax. He wrapped his hands firmly around her head, tangling his fingers in her hair, and pulled her back onto him. This time he controlled his movements, stroking more slowly, sliding her suckling mouth up and down his length.

"That's it, baby, nice and easy, you can do this like nobody else, you did it for me before." He inhaled sharply, the air hissing through his clenched teeth. "That's it darlin', don't stop."

Kate surrendered to his possession of her mouth. The whiskey helped. She had never allowed any man to do the things she let him do, and somehow it was a thrill beyond compare.

Russell watched as he slid in and out of her sweet mouth, his breath hitching short and shallow. I've got an angel blowing me, he thought as her brown eyes looked up at him trustingly. "Oh god," he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut lest the vision make him pop off too fast. This felt so good he wanted it to last.

Kate was careful not to graze him even as he began stroking faster again. The musk smell of him, the animal sounds he was making, and the barely controlled violence in his movements filled her senses. She wanted to bring him off and reached for his balls, which had pulled up tight in anticipation. She kneaded them gently with one hand, continuing to pump him into her mouth with the other. "Katie," he gasped and abruptly stopped thrusting. "Gonna come!" he warned. He took a step backward and pulled out of her mouth.

She watched his lovely cock jerk twice before the first thick, white stream shot out. "No!" she whispered. She grabbed handfuls of his ass to hold him still as she plunged her mouth back over him. He cried out and she felt him pulse again as the salty, sweet cream filled her mouth. She had made him wait too long and now had to gulp to take it all. When he finally finished, she let him slip from her mouth and kissed his softening cock tenderly.

He helped her stand and held her close, pressing grateful little kisses all over her face. "You make a fucking great groupie," he breathed. "I'm going to worship you later."

As they left the room and entered the hall where it was lighter, he turned and carefully examined her face for tell tale signs. He smiled, remembering his gift on her lips after the first time. Her face was flushed and her lips a little swollen, but he thought it was nothing too obvious. He stroked a tender thumb along her cheek. "Beauty. You, um, might want to re- do your lipstick," he suggested.

When Kate returned from the bathroom, the band was taking the stage again. She watched them and looked around self- consciously at first, but if anyone noticed anything, they did not let on. She resumed her place up front. The crowd filled in, bigger than before and on their feet. After a few more covers, the band launched into What You Want Me to Forget. It was a song both Russell and Dean clearly loved performing, and a joy to watch them get into it, "yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh!"

She could feel the positive vibe traveling back and forth between the band and the audience, just like she had experienced at shows with her favorite bands. For a moment she wondered if she might be seeing the start of something really big, and tried to imagine them playing to screaming thousands, like her idols, U2. An uninvited pair of hands gripped her hips, yanking her back to reality. She froze. Tom, the young American from earlier, leered into her face, "Come on baby, don't stop now, dance with me."

Kate stepped out of his grasp, but he persisted. She turned and hissed at him, "Don't be an idiot. Get away from me." She looked nervously toward the stage, less in search of protection than in fear of disrupting the show. To her relief, Russell was too busy tossing his head and jamming to notice. Tom tried to loop his arm around her shoulders but she ducked around him and moved several feet over, into another group of girls who glared at her for invading their territory. She gave what she hoped was a peaceable smile and turned back to watch the show. This time, Russell was looking right at her and his stony expression made her stomach lurch. She began to sway to the music again, trying to show that there was nothing wrong.

It was not long however, before Tom found her again. He pressed against her from behind and said in her ear, "Hey baby, why don't you come do for me what you did for that Aussie faggot in the back room?"

"I said, leave me alone!" she said a little louder. People around them turned to look. He grabbed her arm and she wrenched it away, accidentally bumping a tipsy girl in platforms, who stumbled against Tom, nearly toppling him.

"You stupid bitch, watch where you're going," he yelled at the unfortunate girl, his voice carrying clearly over the music. Tom, who was either too drunk to care or fatally stupid, turned back to address Kate. He grabbed his crotch. "You've been away from home too long, baby, you've forgotten what a red- blooded home-boy tastes like."

The band played on but Russell had stopped singing. The sound of his pulse pounding in his ears drowned out everything else. All sound and motion, everyone else in the room, evaporated as he fixed his eyes on the heckler who was again trying to touch his angel. He had one thought: Kill the bastard.

Kate heard the sound before she saw him. "Aauurgh!..." Russell dove, headfirst, off the stage. Tom heard it too and looked up just in time to see the most terrifying vision of his short life. Russell, teeth bared, eyes bulging and completely crazed, flying straight at him. He looked like a giant from below. In an instant, Tom was down, as the leather and satin clad maniac repeatedly slammed his head into the floor.

The music finally stopped. The other two Americans jumped on Russell's back, but did not succeed in pulling him off. Now there were four men rolling around on the floor. Guitars came off as his mates jumped off the stage, into the melee. Some of the crowd scattered, but more were keen to join in. Something struck Kate from behind. She staggered, and then scrambled to safety on the stage. She looked frantically for Russell, spying him just as he delivered a vicious headbutt to a man who went down and did not get back up again.

Soon the bar was nothing but one big brawling, smashing, cursing, bleeding mess. Straight in front of her, one of the American boys was holding a chair, about to crash it onto one of the band members. She pulled her knee in, turned and kicked across, nailing the assailant in the head. Stunned, she looked at him lying unconscious on the floor and thought how glad she was she had worn her boots tonight. She edged toward the back of the stage, watching as the men, and some of the women, beat the tar out of each other. It took them a few minutes to sort it out, but eventually the locals decided to fight the tourists and not the band. The three Americans had caught the worst of it by the time the venue security managed to break it up.

Russell was still charging blindly as his mates struggled to hold him back. "Get the fuck off me!" he bellowed like an enraged bull.

"Russell you dickhead, can't you hear the sirens? You hurt that kid pretty bad. You need to fuckin' calm down or they're gonna toss you in the wagon too. Let's just get our shit and get out of here," said Dean. He poured a beer over Russell, which seemed to jolt some sense into him.

"Kate! Where's Kate?" Russell called, blinking between the amber droplets dripping from his curls. He realized he had not seen her since the fight broke out.

"I am so, so sorry," said Kate as she emerged from the shadows to examine the carnage. Every one of them showed some form of damage.

Her apology was met by a chorus of "Whassat?"

"No fuckin' worries, love!"

"American assholes - sorry Kate, not you."

"Motherfuckers had it coming."

They began quickly collecting their gear and slipped out the back, just before the cops came in the front. "Hey! Nice kick you landed, I saw that," one of them praised as they hurriedly tossed their things into a van.

"What?" asked Russell.

"Yeh!. She kicked one of 'em smack in the head, conked him good. You been in a bar fight before, love?" There was laughter at this.

"Good onya," smiled Dean.

"Thanks," she said, more embarrassed than ever. She had the odd feeling of having tried out during a particularly tough match, and just been drafted to their footy team. "I took a self defense class for awhile."

Russell and Kate caught a cab back to the hotel while the others left in the van. Once in the room, she went for ice and soaked a towel in cold water while he lay down on the bed, one arm wearily across his face, blocking the light. She sat down beside him and tenderly cleaned his face. "You're not cut. How'd you get blood on your mouth?"

"I think I bit someone," he admitted. She wrapped some ice in a towel and handed it to him. He pushed it away. "Why don't you get undressed and come lie down with me?" he asked.

"How can you still think about that now?" she asked. She held the pack to his face gently. He was developing a shiner. "Don't you know that groupies don't expect equal treatment? We're just thrilled to be useful," she said.

He turned his head slightly to look at her with the one good eye. He reached out and touched her lips with the tip of his finger. She sucked the digit into her mouth, pantomiming what she now strongly suspected must be his favorite sex act. He smiled slightly. The bulge in his jeans jerked and twitched. She released his finger. "O- kay. Enough of that then!" She stood and backed away from the bed. "Reward me tomorrow, kay? For now, let's get some sleep."

He did not argue with her anymore. He even let her pull off his boots and clothes without so much as patting her bottom. She climbed under the covers to snuggle against him and both were fast asleep in minutes.

The next day he made good on his promise and took her to The Next Wave, an annual festival that celebrated homegrown artists, writers and musicians. Melbourne was big on festivals; they had several a year. They looked at the paintings and other art forms, listened to a poetry reading, and browsed the craft vendors. They ran into several people he knew through either his film or music work. He quickly introduced her to anyone that spoke to him. He stopped to buy a beer at a stand while she wandered off. When she doubled back to him, he was talking with another actor. She approached in time to hear him quiz Russell on the whereabouts of his long time girlfriend.

"Uh, she's not here, mate." He saw Kate approaching over the other man's shoulder. "We haven't been together for months," he said, louder.

"What are you talking about, months? I saw you both at that club in Sydney together, not more than six weeks ago, remember? You two are always doing this. Mark my words, before long, you'll be back together. Everyone's favorite couple, looking good for the cameras."

It was the guilty look on Russell's face, more than what she had overheard, that alarmed her. Had he not been totally honest with her or worse, with himself? His lowering glower told her the hapless fellow was at risk for bodily injury if she did not intervene. Kate quickly stepped up and linked her arm through Russell's.

He looked at her but could not seem to find his tongue for a moment. For fuck's sake, he thought, what's wrong with me? I've been caught in tighter spots than this before. I'm standing here staring at her like a stunned mullet. He finally made the introduction, emphasizing the word girlfriend.

Kate felt truly stung. As they walked away, she glanced back to see that the friend was out of earshot before showing Russell how he sounded. "This is, um, what was your name love? Kate! That's it. This is Kate, the sheila who blows me at gigs now," she imitated.

"Oh for fuck's sake! You know it's not like that!" he said, now equally stung.
Neither said any more about it, but it put a damper on the rest of the evening. They finished by listening to a very good alternative band. When people began stage diving, however, she begged off. "I had enough of that last night."

Part 3


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