He was stomping toward me, his chest heaving, but when I lifted my hand between us, he stopped instantly.
“You didn’t even call me on the day of my parents’ funeral,” I told him quietly as a lump formed in my throat. “I needed you.”
“Fuck, sweetheart. I’m sorry,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was on a run and I forgot.”
“You forgot?” I asked incredulously.
“I know the world revolves around you Callie—”
“What?” I yelled, cutting him off.
“Fuck, that didn’t come out right. But, shit, girl. It’s not like I’m in Oregon sitting at a desk in some office! I’ve got people depending on me up there to keep their asses alive—I can’t stop to call my girl because she’s having a hard day.” He ran a hand down his face. “I’m not explaining this very well.”
“No. You pretty much just sound like an asshole at this point.”
“Sugar, I was in the middle of something important and I fuckin’ forgot. No excuse,” he told me, lifting his palms out in front of him and then dropping them down at his sides. “I’m sorry as shit for it.”
He was sorry. I was sure he’d fuck up again, but at that moment, I knew he was sorry for being so distant. His face was soft in a way that I’d seen before, watching me as if I’d break.
I couldn’t comprehend what he was doing in Oregon that was so important, but he obviously felt strongly about it, so I wasn’t going to question him. I didn’t want to know about that part of his life. However, I was still freaking about one other thing in Oregon.
“Do you have a wife?” I blurted, mortified, but not willing to take back the question.
“What? No!” he laughed, looking at me like I was crazy.
“Well, Farrah’s mom sees a guy named Gator and he has a wife!” I griped back, annoyed that he was laughing at me. “She only sees him once in a while! It sounded pretty fucking familiar!”
“Wait, you’re friends with a club whore’s kid?”
“Her name is Farrah, and don’t call her mom a whore,” I replied snottily.
“Gator’s bitch? Wait, Natasha?” he asked, his voice raising an octave as his face paled.
“Yes. That’s Farrah’s mom,” I answered with a nod, daring him to say anything further. “She only sees Gator once in a while because he has a wife and kids he has to get back to.”
“Sweetheart, I think you’re forgetting something,” he told me in amusement.
“I’m pretty sure I’m not.”
“I’m pretty sure you are,” he said back, imitating my voice. “Only reason you aren’t living with me is because you refused to move to Oregon.” He laughed again. “Sugar, you’re my old lady—not a whore on the side.”
“Oh,” I sighed, my doubts fading.
His words gave me a sense of calm even though he was laughing as he spoke. But I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be considered anyone’s ‘Old Lady’. My mouth lifted in a small smile at his laughter. I couldn’t help myself. His laugh was beautiful.
But even though I wasn’t feeling the need to maim him with fruit, I still wasn’t fully ready to forgive him. He’d pretty much ignored me for weeks and then showed up acting like I was the one who was in the wrong. Um, no.
“I’m going to bed,” I told him dismissively, ignoring the shocked look on his face as I gave him a pat on the stomach, effectively ending our conversation. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I knew I wouldn’t get far.
I barely made it into the bedroom before he was wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling my back against his chest as he slammed the door behind us. His arm squeezed tight—almost to the point of pain—before he was using his chin to brush my hair away from my neck.
“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday,” he rumbled against my throat, placing sweet kisses there.
“How?”
“Michael was outside when I showed up,” he answered, kissing me again. “You shoulda told me.”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” I mumbled bitterly, pushing at his arm on my waist.
“Yeah, Sugar. It would’ve.” He walked us to the bed, flipping me over onto my back before lying down on top of me, his forearms on each side of my head. “You have to tell me this shit, Callie. How’m I supposed to know if you don’t tell me?”
“You knew about the funeral,” I pointed out, tilting my head.
“Are you gonna keep throwing that shit in my face?”
I ignored his comment as if he hadn’t even spoken.
“And when exactly was I supposed to tell you? The two fucking times you’ve called in the last three weeks when you barely spoke and couldn’t wait to get off the phone with me?” I sniped back, raising my head from the comforter until our noses were practically touching.
“Don’t gimme that shit, Calliope! The phone works both ways,” he growled back, lowering his head until mine dropped back down to keep us from touching. “Only time you seem to call me is when your ass is in trouble!”
My eyes opened wide as I stared at him, stunned.
“You never seem to want to initiate contact, but you’re pissed as fuck when I don’t call. It’s fuckin’ bullshit, Callie,” he growled at me, his brows drawn in frustration. “What the fuck do you expect?”
He was waiting for an answer, but I didn’t have one. Instead my eyes closed in disbelief.
He was right.
“Fuck,” I whispered, feeling like an insane bitch.
“Yeah, Sugar. ‘Fuck’ is right,” he grumbled, dropping his forehead against mine.
We lay there silently, our breath mingling for long moments before he whispered against my mouth.
“Can we just drop this shit?” he asked me quietly, rubbing his nose along mine. “I fuckin’ missed you.”
Every emotion I’d been feeling since he’d left me instantly bubbled to the surface and I made a sound deep in my throat. I reached up to grab the back of his head, but I didn’t have to pull him down because his mouth was already covering mine, his tongue pushing between my lips.
He tasted like mint and smoke and I couldn’t get enough.
I slid my fingers into his hair and worked out the rubber band holding it back, making him groan as he slid us farther onto the bed. When we’d almost hit the other side, his lips ripped from mine and he leaned back, searching my face.
Whatever he saw there had him slowly pulling the wide neck of my t-shirt down my shoulder until one of my breasts was popping out the top, covered in a plain white strapless bra.
“Fuck me,” he whispered, a grin forming on his face. “Is it wrong that I’m glad as fuck that you had a bra on out there with those assholes?”
He laughed hard as I punched him in the stomach, but his face quickly turned serious as he used my squirming to pull my shirt over my head. He didn’t take the time to undo my bra, just pulled it down to my waist, but I didn’t care. I was too busy watching his face as he undressed me. It didn’t take long before I was completely naked, and I shook as his eyes took me in.
His nostrils were flared and his jaw tense as he ran a finger from my collarbone to my navel.
“Look at you. So beautiful,” he whispered, running his fingers lightly over my nipples. “You scared? You’re shaking, sweetheart.”
“No, just wondering if you’re going to be a prude again,” I joked uncomfortably as I pushed at his vest with the tips of my fingers. “Are you finally going to get naked, too?”
That was all the prodding he needed to stand up from the bed and start stripping with a small smirk on his face. It took less than a minute for him to get completely naked, and he paused for a moment, completely unselfconscious to let me stare. His body was huge, with wide shoulders, a thick chest, and a lean waist that tapered down to heavily muscled thighs. He didn’t have the steroid look that I’d seen so many times in Southern California—his body came from being naturally large and honed to perfection. Holy shit.
“
Naked enough for you?” he said quietly before climbing onto the bed and pushing my legs apart. When he was braced above my body, he grabbed my thighs and pulled them up his sides so he could nestle between them.
“You’re already wet,” he mumbled into my throat, sliding his hands from behind my thighs to the slick skin between them. “Fighting turn you on, Sugar?”
“Shut it,” I moaned back, arching into his hands.
“Ain’t nothing wrong with that,” he told me with a chuckle. “I was hard as a rock the minute you started spoutin’ off in the kitchen.”
He rubbed his fingers over me in a slow stroke and I felt like I was going to shoot off the bed. It had been so long since the last time he’d touched me—I was starved for him.
He stopped rubbing where I needed him and I made a sound of protest, but he cut it off with his mouth before moving his lips south.
“You had a party in my fuckin’ apartment,” he growled at me.
“Your friends were here!” I gasped, trying to move against his fingers, but failing to get what I needed.
“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter,” he told me, biting me not so gently at the top of one of my breasts. “You don’t have a bunch of fuckers in our house when I’m not here.”
“Okay. Okay,” I whimpered as I reached down to push at his hands.
“There were a lot of men out there, thinking they might have a chance at this,” he rumbled into my skin, grabbing my wrists in one of his hands and moving them between our chests, causing my skin to break out in goose bumps. “So I’m gonna make sure they know.”
I ran my hands around his chest and dug my fingernails into his back as he sucked hard at my neck, one of my heels involuntarily rubbing down the back of his thigh as I moaned.
“Know what?” I gasped, trying to stay at least a little coherent as my body arched again.
He moved his lips down my chest to the inside of my breast and bit down again, making me screech as he sucked hard at my skin. Once he was done, his eyes rose directly to mine.
“You’re mine. Nobody touches you but me.”
I was nodding my head in agreement, trying to pull him up my body, but he continued to move lower until his head was between my thighs.
“One more,” he told me quietly, and my entire lower body froze.
“Asa…” I squeaked nervously, trying to close my legs even though his wide shoulders were holding me open.
His head snapped up at the fear in my voice and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You think I’d hurt you, Callie?” he asked me, his voice a deep rumble that made my breath catch in my throat.
“N-No,” I stuttered back, my hands fisted in the comforter.
“Then lay back and relax your legs,” he ordered, his jaw tensing when I didn’t immediately comply. “Relax, Callie.”
When I’d finally relaxed enough that he could go back to what he was doing, my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I waited for the hard suction I was coming to expect, but I was completely startled when he latched onto the inside of my thigh as he pushed two fingers inside of me.
I came so hard, my body curled into a sitting position, my stomach muscles tightening to an almost painful level.
By the time I came down, he was kneeling between my legs with a condom in his hand.
“Put it on me,” he ordered quietly, his voice still so deep it was almost unrecognizable.
“Okay.” I reached for the condom and tried to roll it on him, but it wasn’t working.
“It’s inside out, Sugar. Turn it around,” he told me patiently, running his fingers through my hair as I grew flustered.
I fumbled with it, turning it back and forth before finally pushing it down his length. As I finally got it into place, I heard what sounded like a deep breath of relief from above me.
“You could have just done it yourself,” I snapped at him, tucking my chin into my chest and lying back like a sacrificial virgin. I was embarrassed and inept, and I hated how stupid he made me feel.
“Look at me, Calliope,” he rasped, positioning himself before pausing to lift my chin so we were eye to eye.
“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous. You know that?” he asked as he slowly but firmly pushed his way inside.
He stopped halfway, grimacing, and I tried to relax as much as I could.
“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, sweat rolling down his chest. “You’re tight as hell, Callie.”
“I’m sorry,” I moaned as I rocked my hips against him. “I’ve only been with two other guys and neither was as big as you.”
He paused and lifted his weight off my chest, wrapping his hand around my jaw.
“Shut the fuck up,” he told me gently.
“I was just—”
“No. I don’t ever want to hear about that shit. I sure as hell don’t want to fuckin’ hear it when I’m balls deep inside you.”
“You’re not ba—”
My words stopped on a sharp inhale as he pulled back and slammed back in, this time bottoming out inside me.
I arched my neck and back, relishing the feeling, but only seconds later he’d wrapped his fist in my hair so he could tip my head back toward him.
“You put the condom on me because I want your hands on me,” he explained slowly between thrusts. “I want you touching me every goddamn second we’re in the same room.”
He let go of my hair and wrapped his hand gently around the side of my neck so his thumb rested beneath my chin. The other hand had moved down my thigh and was holding my knee forward until it was inches from my chest.
“You don’t know how to do something? Then I’ll teach you,” he growled, leaning down to bite my lip. “You got the basics down, but Sugar, when it’s me and you? Only we know what we like together. And there ain’t no way to figure that out unless we’re actually doing it.”
I grasped his hair in one hand, pushing it away from his face, and used my other hand to hold him against me, wrapping it tight around his back as his thrusts became faster and harder. I was groaning and sweating, making noises that he seemed to enjoy, judging by the grip of his hand on the underside of my knee.
“You feel so good,” I smiled up at him, running my nails down his back.
“Yeah, Sugar. You too,” he told me with a grin, leaning down to run his tongue over my bottom lip.
His hand slid from my knee and he leaned up a little so he could push his hand between our straining bodies. Zeroing in on my clit and pinching it with two fingers, he used the momentum of his thrusts to slide his hand up and down. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he groaned, his hips picking up speed. “You love it when I leave my mark on you. Don’t you—?” his words broke off with a low groan as my hand tightened in his hair.
I was coming again, and my back arched completely off the bed as all of my muscles tightened and a low keening came out of my throat.
Between the clenching of my pussy, my nails digging into his back, and my fist pulling at his hair, I tipped him over the edge with me.
I was still catching my breath as he pulled out and laid his head flat on my chest between my breasts.
“I love it when you put your fingers in my hair,” he sighed, lazily sucking a nipple into his mouth as I ran my fingers through the hair in question. “Feels so fuckin’ good.”
His eyes closed for a while as his breathing slowed, and I realized that he had just driven all day. He must have been exhausted. I closed my eyes, and was seconds away from falling asleep when his head popped up from my chest and he quickly rolled off the bed.
I pulled the blankets back over me, intent on falling asleep, when I felt cool air rush over me, followed by a stinging slap on my ass.
I twisted my head to him with a startled look on my face, but he just raised one eyebrow at me.
“Told you not to call me Grease,” he chastised, pulling on his boxer briefs. “Go in and go to the bathroom, yeah?”
I watched him, confused as hell as he walked out of the room, and the
n I could hear him checking the locks on the front door. I hadn’t moved while he was gone, and when he realized I was still lying in the same spot, he looked at me in exasperation before pulling me out of bed to stand on my feet.
“Go to the bathroom,” he ordered seriously.
“I don’t have to go. What the heck is wrong with you?” I asked, shaking my head in confusion.
“I take care of you, yeah?” he asked, kissing my forehead. “You need to go to the bathroom after you’re done with sex. Just trust me on this.”
I stood silently for a moment before a vaguely-remembered conversation with some girls at school popped into my head. When realization dawned, my face blushed a deep red.
“Callie,” he called from where he was propped against the headboard, “I figure that’s probably something a chick learns from her ma. Didn’t know if she had that talk with you. Stop overthinking it and go.”
He checked his phone and then slid down the bed with a sigh as I walked toward the bathroom.
But I couldn’t help overthinking it.
He was right—my mom hadn’t had that talk with me.
I wondered what other conversations I was going to go without before pushing it to the back of my mind where everything else was hidden.
I finished following his directions and climbed back in bed with him. When the heat of his body sank deep into my back, I closed my tired eyes—ignoring the sounds of the apartments around ours.
“Happy Birthday, sweetheart,” he whispered with a kiss to the back of my head.
I slept through the night for the first time in three weeks.
Chapter 37
Grease
It felt good to wake up with Callie. It felt even better that she hadn’t put any clothes on before climbing back into bed the night before.
She was sprawled out on her belly with one hand on my chest and her knee raised up where it was digging into my hip. She’d been restless as she slept, but she hadn’t woken up in the night, and I wondered when her nightmares had stopped. The nightmares were one of the things I’d worried about while I was gone, and the guilt over not being there to take care of her afterward was another reason I’d distanced myself.