by Amity Cross
“And he wanted to meet you? That’s great.”
“He saw the Twister cake,” she said.
I smirked and wiped my thumb over the chocolate on her cheek. “Was that the cake inspired by me?”
“The one and only.” She grabbed my wrist and pulled my thumb toward her lips. When she sucked and licked her tongue around the digit, my cock began to twitch.
“Shit, Callie,” I murmured.
“He offered me a job.”
“What?” My head was beginning to spin.
“Hector offered me a job. He wants me to go to Amsterdam and help him set up his new restaurant. I would be in charge of developing the dessert menu.”
It took a moment for her words to sink in. She was going away? My heart sank, and it was all I could do not to let it show on my face. It was a great opportunity for her, but where did that leave me?
“I haven’t decided yet,” she said, stepping closer. “I’ve got a lot to consider.”
“It’s a great opportunity,” I said, sounding like a robot.
“I don’t know…” Her arms snaked around my waist, her big emerald eyes meeting mine. “It feels like I’m doing the exact thing I was accusing you of.”
I tilted my head to the side. “What’s that?”
“Using the fire as a stepping-stone.”
“They came to you,” I retorted. “You didn’t manipulate the situation to your benefit.”
“Maybe…” Her cheeks flushed pink. “It still feels rotten. I almost died, and you risked your life. Getting a big break off the back of that seems…slimy.”
“Don’t feel like that,” I murmured, smoothing her hair back with my good hand. “It’s a good opportunity. It could really help your business. No one would think badly of you if you took it.”
Fuck, why was I convincing her? Supporting her was the right thing to do, but it felt like shit. This job would take her away from me, and I would be back at square one, only this time, I knew what I was missing.
“I haven’t made any decisions yet,” she murmured, looking forlorn.
Was she regretting being with me? We hadn’t talked about exclusivity or any of that shit. We’d known each other for like a month. That was nothing in the grand scheme of things even though it had been an eventful couple of weeks. If she wanted to cut me loose, now would be the time to do it. I didn’t like it. At all. She was forcing me to confront feelings even I didn’t understand yet.
“Mark…” Her fingers hooked under the waistband of my jeans.
Was this how Lori felt when I told her I was leaving for America? If it was, then I hated myself even more than I already did. Was there a word stronger than that? I was such a bastard.
“Mark, please say something,” Callie whispered, starting to panic.
“Amsterdam is a really long way from here.”
Her fingers buried into my hair, and she pulled me close. “I haven’t said yes, you know.”
“It’s not my place to tell you what you should do,” I replied.
“Fuck…” she whispered before placing her lips on mine.
She kissed me softly at first, then as I wrapped my arms around her, she demanded a more specific kind of attention. Opening to me, I deepened our embrace, my breathing picked up as I tasted chocolate on her tongue. We hadn’t slept together since our second date, and my body was humming with a pent-up energy I wanted to pour inside her.
“Callie,” I muttered against her lips. My cock was thickening in my trousers at the thought of having her right here, right now.
“I’m wearing a skirt,” she said breathlessly.
“I see that.” If she was going to leave, then I had to make the most of moments like these, right?
Tightening my grip around her waist, I lifted her onto the empty bench behind us. Her legs parted, and she wrapped herself around my waist and began moving against me as my mouth went back to her cleavage. Opening more buttons, I licked along the edge of her bra before tugging the material down and capturing her taut nipple between my teeth. Biting gently, she arched into me, a moan bursting from her pink lips.
Bunching up her skirt, I tore at her underwear, but I was hindered by the cast on my left arm. She lifted her ass off the bench so I could pull them down, then she greedily undid the button on my jeans.
Rubbing my fingers between her legs, I moaned, thoroughly enjoying spreading her wetness to her clit.
“I’ve never done this before,” she murmured as I freed my erection.
“Done what?” I asked as I rolled on a condom.
“Had sex on my kitchen bench.”
“I hope you’ve got some disinfectant,” I retorted, stroking my shaft. “Your bare ass is on the countertop.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Industrial grade.”
I positioned myself at her opening, and her smile faded as I circled my thumb around her clit. The moment she relaxed, my crown slipped into her, and I couldn’t hold back. I thrust, burying my cock deep into her body. Sliding her forward to the edge of the bench, I pulled out and delved in once more.
I had her hard and fast, and her body quivered violently as she came. The sight of her coming undone in such primal way sent me over the edge before I was ready. My balls flared, and I emptied into her, my right arm cradling her against me as the last of my release ran its course.
“Fuck,” she muttered, her chest heaving against mine. “Zero to obliterated in under five minutes.”
“I usually have more stamina,” I retorted.
“It’s something to do with the level of horniness.” She smirked as I pulled out.
“I’ll say.”
Removing the condom, I found the bin and chucked it in, and by the time I turned around, the air had changed between us. Callie was watching me with an air of sadness…or was it regret? Shit, and my ass was still hanging out.
“Mark, I…”
Her eyes were sad, and I knew she was struggling with her decision. It was the job or me. She didn’t have to say it for me to understand. Did she have to choose? What if I took myself out of the equation? It would make things real easy for her then.
“I’ve gotta go,” I muttered, jerking my boxers and jeans back up.
“Mark…”
“I’ve got shit to do,” I fired back, fixing my fly. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I pushed out the back door and into the alley, and she didn’t try to stop me. Not even once.
That night, I went to The Underground.
Two weeks had passed since I’d broken my arm, and I hadn’t been back. Until tonight. Until shit got rough. Seemed like the circle of life where I was concerned.
Leaning against the bar, I sipped absently at my bottle of Corona, ignoring everyone around me, especially Faye who was attempting to rile me up with her inane questions. How’s your arm? Free tonight? That chick is staring at you. I bet she’ll suck your cock then let you do her in the ass. Nothing got a rise out of me tonight. I was too miserable.
Callie’s situation bore a startling resemblance to mine in a way. I was offered a shot at the UFC, seemingly out of the blue, but from there, I knew our paths would be different. She was integrity personified. Her heart was strong, and she was determined to make her way on her own merits.
But even I knew not everyone was an island. Even the most cunning people were done over from time to time, and I was worried for her. Worried or selfish? I couldn’t tell the two apart anymore.
Simply put, I didn’t want her to go, so why couldn’t I say it to her?
Someone sat on the stool next to me, and I tensed. I wasn’t in the mood to let anyone down easily tonight. Glancing out the corner of my eye, I was surprised to see a shock of cobalt blue hair. Turning fully, I looked her over and scowled.
“Lori.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Storm.”
“I haven’t been here in two weeks,” I said. “I never took you for a gambling woman, so who told you?”
“Hamish
texted me,” she said with a shrug.
“Now you’re in cahoots.” I rolled my eyes.
“I can see you’ve fallen back into bad habits, or are you still sautéing in them after our last conversation?”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, ignoring her on purpose. “It’s been what? Almost a year and a half since you vowed not to grace The Underground with your presence?”
“Look who’s keeping count.”
“Is this an intervention?” I drawled.
“Nah.” She waved a hand at me. “It’s a friendly chitchat.”
“About?”
“Callie.”
I scowled and turned back to my beer.
“How are things there? Did you fight?”
“A little,” I muttered.
“And?”
“She believes me.”
“Why are you so shitty about it then?” she asked. “That’s fucking great, you know.”
“She was offered a job in Amsterdam yesterday,” I replied.
“Amsterdam? That’s very specific.”
“Some celebrity chef saw her cakes online.” I shrugged. “He’s opening a new thing there or something. Wants her to develop the desserts.”
“And?” Lori raised her eyebrows, prodding for more information.
“Why are you interested all of a sudden?” I asked, my hackles rising. “I apologized for the other week. I didn’t mean to drag you back here with a vendetta.”
“It’s not a vendetta,” she retorted. “This is going to sound like complete and utter bullshit, but I saw something in you the other day. You’ve changed, Storm. You might be going about it the wrong way, but you care about other people now. That’s a huge deal considering who you used to be.” She turned to face me and smiled. She actually fucking smiled after giving me that awful excuse for a compliment. “I never used to think it was possible. That people could change the core of who they were. I thought you would be a dick for eternity, but deep down, you’re not. You need to stop all this bravado and just be that guy.”
My scowl deepened. I was beginning to understand one thing about myself. I didn’t like taking criticism.
“Your Callie seems like a smart woman,” she went on. “I doubt she would be with you if she couldn’t see over all the walls labeled ‘bastard’ that you’ve put up.”
“Thanks,” I drawled, raising my beer in a mock salute.
“If you don’t want her to go to Amsterdam, then tell her.”
“It’s make or break,” I muttered.
“Seems simple to me,” Lori declared.
“Yeah? Enlighten me.”
“Tell her how you feel.”
I snorted and downed a mouthful of beer.
“You do know how you feel about her?” she prodded. “Storm?”
“I’m not sure it matters.”
Her expression fell, and she shook her head. Lori was still disappointed in me, and I felt bad she’d come all this way.
“I want to shake the shit out of you,” she declared angrily. “You’re so fucking dumb.”
To add insult to injury, I shrugged.
“One day, you’re going to regret not fighting, Storm,” she said before standing and walking away. “You’re going to regret it big-time.”
22
Callie
Watching as a pair of builders hammered the last nail into The Fitzroy Cake Company, I smiled. It was halfhearted considering how things had gone the day before.
Mark hadn’t taken the news of my job offer very well. He’d pushed me toward it and practically shut down in the face of it all. If he didn’t want me to go, he hadn’t said. My heart had cracked a little under the pressure, and disappointment had flared the moment he’d walked out. He hadn’t even tried to convince me to stay. Amsterdam is a really long way from here? Pfft!
“What do you think?” Ray asked, standing beside me. The builder assigned to the job by my insurance company had been a complete star. He’d consulted with me the entire time, and what he and his team had produced was nothing short of amazing.
“It’s exactly how I envisioned it,” I replied. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He patted me on the shoulder. “We have a few things to clean up, and then we’ll be out of your hair. Good luck with your opening, Callie.”
I smiled and thanked him again. Retreating into the kitchen, I ducked through the plastic sheeting that had been tacked to the wall to keep dust from floating into the food prep area. With a week to go, there was still a lot to do. My staff would be coming in on Tuesday to begin baking and training for the opening on the following Saturday. Before then, there was a lot of cleaning to do, boxes to unpack, advertising to track. The works.
And I had to make a decision about Hector Vanderhall.
I was actually considering taking the job after yesterday’s disastrous conversation with Mark. If he didn’t want to take me seriously, then what was holding me back? There was only so much I could do for a guy like him before he had to do some of the work himself.
Oh, Mark… Why couldn’t you just give me a chance to love you? I could, you know.
“Hello?”
I glanced up to find a woman peering around the plastic sheet, her blue hair taking me by surprise.
“Can I help you?” I asked, frowning. A random person off the street walking into a closed shop wasn’t exactly kosher, and I tensed.
“Yeah, sorry. Your builder let me in. Sorry to barge in like this.” She flailed through the drop sheet and smiled. “I’m Lori. I know Storm.”
I blinked, totally confused for a split second. I didn’t know him by that name, but he’d told me all about it. The Underground, his broken arm, his only means for supporting himself financially. I knew all about it…and didn’t like it one bit.
“Mark?” I asked. “What…” That was when I realized who was standing in my kitchen. Lori. The Lori. Mark’s ex.
“I didn’t really want to meet like this, but I’m worried about him,” she said.
I raked my gaze over her and couldn’t believe how different she was to me. Bright blue hair, nose piercing, and so many tattoos peeking out of hems and necklines I wondered if her entire body was covered. And what a body it was. Slim, athletic, big boobed, pretty eyes, smooth skin. Mark had been with someone like her? Why was he ever interested in me?
“You’re worried about him?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “The woman he cheated on?”
“It’s a long story.” She shrugged. “He only recently came back into my life.”
“You’re not helping,” I drawled, jealousy rising hot and fast. “What’s this about? Are you starting something with him again, and this is a shakedown? I thought he said you’d moved on.”
Lori laughed like I’d told the funniest joke she’d ever heard and shook her head. “No way. I’m so taken with another guy it’s not funny. I’m here because I want Storm to be happy.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say, he treated me like shit on his shoe, but I’m still here sticking up for him when he’s all but given up. Not to toot my own horn or anything but wow. Forgiveness from someone like me is a real indicator, you know?”
“What’s this got to do with me?”
“He thinks he’s already lost you,” she stated.
I stared at her, my expression falling. “What?”
“He was at The Underground last night,” she explained. “First time in a while, and he was a mess. The bastard in him was out in full force.” She made a face. “Man, can he lay it on thick. Listen, I know this is completely fucking twisted, me coming here, but Storm… He doesn’t believe in himself anymore. He’s just given up trying to fight. He’s going to let you go to Amsterdam without even telling you how he feels because he’s stuck in this stupid cycle of self-punishment. I don’t know you, but the look in his eyes when he spoke about you…” She sighed. “I’ve never seen him look like that.”
I was frozen to the spot, unable to
speak, think, or even move to save myself.
“I guess the short version is I came here to beg for you to fight for him. If I, of all people, can turn around and do that for the guy who broke my heart… Shit.”
This was so messed up. My throat burned with unshed tears, and I swallowed, attempting to soothe the ache. Was this how our romance was supposed to go? Callie Winslow, the pants of the operation. A sexy, buff cage fighter with an enormous chip in his heart needed me, the cupcake glitter queen to save him?
Stranger shit had happened, I supposed. Like almost being burned alive and being saved by the guy who was too afraid to love in case he inadvertently destroyed someone’s life. Yeah, real fucking weird.
“Would you tell me about him?” I asked. “I know the pieces he’s shown me, but I can’t help but feel it’s only a small selection…”
Lori smiled. “What has he told you?”
“Well,” I began, leaning against the bench where Mark and I had our quickie the day before. “He told me about The Underground and how he fights there. I’m not impressed, by the way. He told me about the kind of man he was back then and how he was selected for the UFC. He told me about the…you know.”
“He said you’d told him you believed his side of things,” she said.
“Yeah, but it was like pulling teeth to get any of this out of him.”
“That’s Storm in a teacup,” she said with a wink.
“Very punny.” I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the stupid smile from appearing on my face. Despite myself, I was beginning to like Lori. A lot.
“He’s difficult to get to know,” she said. “But I can see you’ve already found that out. He’s made a lot of mistakes, but he’s done what he can to make up for them. We had ended before he went overseas, so a few years ago now, but after he’d come back, he sought me out to apologize. For a guy like him, full of bravado, it was a big deal. He’s been through some shit, but he’s grown because of it. I hardly recognize him.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“It’s a very good thing. He’s just got to believe it.”
