Unconditional

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Unconditional Page 7

by Tyler, Q. B.


  He presses my arms above my head, holding them there, and laces our fingers together as his tongue penetrates my mouth in a way I wish his cock was doing to my pussy. He bucks against me with wild reckless abandon, fighting for the orgasm he’s spent God knows how long fighting and then he does. Long and hard. I know the second he does because he groans in my mouth and his kisses get even more frantic—if that’s possible. Our kiss doesn’t stop when his orgasm wanes. If anything it gets even more wild and uncontrolled. We’re a tangle of arms and legs, threaded together in the most delicious puzzle, our pelvises pressed together as they yearn to be connected. I push my hands through his lush, wavy brown hair and I find myself fantasizing about grabbing on to it as his head disappears between my thighs. Perhaps my favorite fantasy of all time and I wonder if I could push that into becoming a reality.

  “Cal,” I moan when he pulls away to suck on a place on my neck, “please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Please, can we lose the clothes.”

  “No,” he growls and just like that, it’s like a bucket of ice water has dumped all over us, breaking us from the sex haze. He’s off of me, putting space between us for the first time since we started and he backs away from me. “Holy fuck, I can’t believe I let that happen…”

  “Cal…” I move towards him and he puts a hand out to stop me from coming closer.

  “No, Madeline. Stay.”

  Tears rush to my eyes and my bottom lip trembles. “But…?”

  “I’m not your boyfriend. I’m…fuck I don’t know what I am anymore. But this can’t happen again.”

  “Why?”

  “You know damn well why.” He stands up, and I can see the evidence from both of our orgasms all over his gray sweats. His erection has gone down, after his thunderous orgasm, but the dark gray spot tells the story of our tryst.

  “I’m…I’m sorry,” I tell him, because I am. I love him and I hate myself for ruining everything. For letting my forbidden fantasy control everything. Ruin everything. I expect him to tell me I had nothing to be sorry for. That it was his fault. That he could have moved me. Anything.

  What I did not expect was for him to walk away without another word.

  I DON’T SEE CAL FOR the rest of the day.

  Not for lack of trying.

  I’d walked by his bedroom at least twenty times, hoping that he’d open the door and talk to me. I know he was holed up in there mad at himself, and me, and probably the world.

  My hand hovers over the door waiting to knock when I let it fall.

  He doesn’t want to see you, Maddie.

  I back away from the door and trudge back to my room passing an array of photos of Cal and me and his family…my family. I stop at one picture in particular. Cal and me on my first trip to Disneyland. I was so excited and couldn’t believe when Cal surprised me.

  The gravity of what Cal and I did hits me full force and the fear that things will never be the same between us comes creeping into my brain. Or worse, that he’ll hate me forever.

  I don’t know if it’s the stress and the intensity of the day or the fact that I am really exhausted, but I fall into a troubled sleep.

  The sound of the front door closing wakes me up out of my sleep and I notice that my room is pitch black. I turn over on my side and blindly search for my phone, rubbing my hand all over the sheets. I find it and bring it to my face. I tap the home button illuminating the space around me.

  Eight-thirty on a Saturday? Cal didn’t usually go in this late, but maybe something happened? I frown when I don’t see a text from him as it’s rare for him to leave without saying goodbye to me. Ever since I was young, he’d made a point to tell me he’d be back. I still remember the first time he left me with Aria while he went to work.

  Cal kneels in front of me and pulls my bunny from between my teeth. “I have to go to work for a little while, okay?”

  My teeth chatter slightly, not because I’m cold, but because I’m so terrified of him leaving me all alone. “Will you be back?”

  “Yes, of course, I’ll be back. I don’t like that I have to leave you at night, but it’s really important.”

  “Superhero stuff?”

  He smiles and nods, that twinkling in his eye that makes me think that he is really made of magic. He’s the handsomest boy I’ve ever seen. “Superhero stuff.”

  “Can I come too?” The shiny silver of his badge catches my eye and I reach out and run my finger over the metal.

  “No, too dangerous for you. But you’ll stay with Aria, okay?”

  “Will you wake me up when you get back?”

  “It’ll be very late.”

  My lip trembles and the tears form in my eyes. “Please? I want to know that you came back.”

  “I’ll always come back, Maddie. I promise.”

  “If you don’t, I’ll be all alone. Who will take care of me?” I lower my chin sadly as the tears slip down my face.

  “You’ll never be alone.” He shakes his head at me and lifts my chin, wiping the tears from my eyes. “I’ll wake you up when I get in, alright?”

  “You promise?”

  “Promise.” He taps my nose and pushes his index fingers into my cheeks trying to get me to smile, and I do after a few moments, breaking out into a full-on grin and then a laugh as he stands up. He waves at me before he’s gone out the front door. I run to the window and watch as he pulls off, waving at him the entire time as he disappears into the night.

  I peek my head out the window and I see the usual cruiser sitting just off the driveway. I grab my phone and dial the number I know by heart and I’m instantly irritated when he doesn’t pick up the phone. He knows I worry when he doesn’t answer, and I know sometimes he physically can’t, but I’m pretty sure this is not one of those times given that he just left the house. So not only am I the worried girl I’ve always been when I can’t reach Cal, but now, I’m the worried girl who thinks it’s because he’s ignoring her after what happened earlier. My phone comes to life in my hands and I eagerly answer it. “You left without saying bye? Are you joking?” I snap as soon as I answer.

  He sighs and I can hear the hum of the engine, making me think that we’re on speakerphone. Shit, I have no idea if anyone is in the car with him.

  “I’m sorry, Maddie. It was an emergency and I knew you were sleeping.” He pauses and then continues. “I’m alone in the car.”

  I nod like he can see me. “Are you coming back?” I whisper, my memories weighing on me like a ton of bricks.

  “Always.” The one word seeps into my bones and warms me after all of his coldness today.

  “Will you wake me when you get in?”

  “It’ll be late.”

  “You know I don’t care.”

  “Maddie…”

  “What, Cal? So, you go to your very high-risk job without so much as a goodbye and now you won’t wake me up when you get home safe? I didn’t agree to those terms,” I sass.

  “Fairly certain the terms changed today,” he grumbles and it feels like a punch in the gut.

  “Is that what this is about?”

  “What the hell else could it be about, Madeline? I can’t believe I let that happen. It can’t happen. Never again.”

  My hand tightens around my phone and my pulse quickens in response to the anger coursing through me. “And you had to do this over the phone? What, you couldn’t face me?”

  “Not at the moment, no.” I don’t say anything and the silence between us stretches to what feels like a full minute. Would things be awkward between us after what happened? “I don’t want you going out.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s already late.”

  “It’s eight thirty.” And I feel like I’m essentially being I don’t know, dumped? Rejected? Whatever this feeling is, it sucks and I need Sasha or hell, Aria.

  “And if you had plans, I’d know about them. Stay in the house, Madeline.”

  “Can I go to Aria and Henr
y’s?”

  “Aria got called in.”

  I let out a sigh. “Can Sasha come over?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the last time she came over when I wasn’t there, you two got drunk as hell.”

  We were bored! “Lock your liquor cabinet.”

  “You picked the lock!” he argues.

  I huff. “This is ridiculous. Fine.”

  “Thank you. I’ll see you when I get home.”

  “Bye.” Regret unfurls in my chest the second I end the call as I think about the fact that I didn’t tell him to be safe. I type out a text to him, my finger hovering over the send key, before I close my eyes and send.

  Me: Be safe. I love you.

  Superhero: Back at you, Mads.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d told Cal I loved him, and he was no stranger to saying it back, but it’s the first time I’ve said it since his tongue was down my throat.

  The sounds of rattling in the kitchen rouse me from sleep. I made a point to watch a movie in the living room versus my bedroom, knowing I would fall asleep on the couch and make it so Cal had to wake me up when he got home. He’d never leave me to sleep there all night.

  “Shit,” I hear from the kitchen followed by the slam of a microwave. I’d whipped up some stir fry while he was gone, knowing he’d be hungry when he got back, and I assume that’s what he’s trying to do. I sit up, throwing the blanket off of me and pad into the kitchen where I see him sitting at the table with his head in his hands and a tumbler of a brown liquid—probably whiskey in front of him.

  “Rough night?” I ask.

  His head snaps up and you’d think I was naked by the way he looks over my body. I’m wearing a sweatshirt and leggings, so it’s not like he has flesh to feast his eyes upon. I look down to see, feeling slightly subconscious, but when I meet his eyes, they’re filled with something I don’t recognize.

  Want maybe?

  “Not as rough as this afternoon,” he grumbles.

  “I’m so sorry that it was so hard for you. I won’t give you the arduous task of having to kiss me again, swear.” I was tired of his moody teenage girl attitude.

  That’s my role.

  Instead, I’m handling this with way more maturity, making me wonder who exactly the adult is here. I move towards the microwave and open the door, knowing that he always leaves it in there too long and sure enough his food is practically steaming. The plate is hot and I snatch my hand back from it, the heat searing into my skin and shooting up my arm. “Fuck,” I groan as I wave my hand to try and cool my fingers. He’s by my side instantly, pulling my hand to the sink and letting it run under the cool water which does nothing for my heated skin that’s responding to his touch. “You always leave it in there too long.”

  “Sorry.” He pulls my fingers out from under the water and holds them in his hand before pulling the wet hand to his lips, sucking the excess water from my skin. He presses kisses to each of my burnt fingertips before letting it gently fall. “Better?”

  No, this was most certainly not better. What about you sucking my fingers is better? “You’re giving me serious whiplash.”

  His eyes widen and he takes a step back, probably remembering that touching me is what got us into trouble earlier. “I can’t think when I’m this close to you. I make bad decisions.”

  “Was touching me so bad?”

  “No…yes…you’re smart enough to know it has nothing to do with you. Kissing you was…amazing. Touching you, feeling you…I can’t get it out of my head,” he tells me as he sits back down and grabs his drink.

  “But…?”

  Bringing his drink to his lips he shoots me a look. “But…it can’t happen again, Maddie.”

  “Why? It’s just kissing…”

  He cocks an eyebrow at me and looks me up and down like he’s trying to show his attraction for me and how difficult it is to just kiss me. “You and I both know that what happened here this afternoon is a slippery slope.”

  “What if I promise not to push for more?”

  He snorts as he grabs his plate that’s cooled down and sits at the table. “Yeah, okay, eventually you’ll want more.” He pushes his food around his plate and looks up at me. “Eventually, I’ll want more.”

  “So, that’s it?”

  “That’s it. I’m your legal guardian. I can’t…we can’t…No.” He shakes his head.

  “You didn’t adopt me. I’m not your daughter.”

  “That aside, you’re seventeen. I’m an officer of the law. I know better. I shouldn’t have even touched you the way I did.” He drops his head into his hands and pulls on his hair.

  “Then don’t have sex with me until I’m eighteen. Besides half the states in the US say I can give consent at seventeen or younger! I can get married even earlier with like parental consent.” So, you basically. He shoots me a look and I roll my eyes. “Lighten up! God, you’re still so easy to rile up. You act like I won’t be eighteen, in less than a month.”

  “This isn’t funny, Madeline,” he snaps.

  I sit down next to him and slide my legs over his knee and prop an elbow up on the table. “I’m sorry, I get the whole making jokes when I’m nervous thing from you, I think.” I smile before I grab his drink and take a tiny sip.

  He chuckles and his hand finds my lips, drawing his thumb over the skin. He doesn’t say anything for a while before he murmurs, “You’re so beautiful.” He strokes my cheek, cupping it gently and I rest my hand over his.

  “So are you.”

  His eyes rest on my lips, tracing over the fullness and my tongue darts out to wet them.

  “Fuck.” His eyes shut and when he opens them, I can see the war in his eyes over what to do.

  He lets out a breath and adjusts himself, and I swallow past the lump in my throat seeing him grow under his slacks. I look up and his hooded gaze is penetrating me, seeing me, knowing me. I can’t look anywhere except his eyes and how close he’s getting to me. I’m not sure who started moving first, but before long we’ve met in the middle, our tongues in a battle neither one of us care about winning. He tastes like whiskey and the spice from the stir fry and a hint of the raw virility I tasted earlier. His tongue is experienced, demanding and rough against my timid one who hasn’t done this but so many times. We’re still far enough apart from our positions at the table and I’m too nervous to move closer for fear of breaking the haze and scaring him off again. But he makes the move, standing up and separating us for a second before pulling me into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist on instinct before we’re on the move up the stairs our lips never separating. “I need you in my room. It’ll freak me out too much being in yours.”

  “Yes, please. Take me to your bedroom,” I moan as we cross the threshold and tumble onto his bed. I’m in my pajamas, but he’s still in a dress shirt and slacks. I want to tell him to change before we ruin these just like we did his sweats from earlier, but I worry that he’ll panic at the thought of getting naked in front of me. “Cal,” I moan as his lips find my neck, sucking at the skin and I relish at the idea of having a hickey. My usually flawless skin purple and blue with indents of his teeth in the flesh.

  “I won’t mark you here.” His voice is low in his throat and it makes my whole body tingle. “Maybe somewhere less visible.”

  “Like…between my legs?” I can feel my cheeks heating with embarrassment or maybe arousal?

  “Shit, like exactly there.”

  I take deep breaths, trying to slow my breathing as I think about him leaving a hickey. On my fucking pussy. I’ve died and gone to heaven…

  Or maybe hell.

  “I bet your clit is so pink and pretty. I bet you taste so fucking sweet.” He bites down on my neck again and I yelp.

  “Do you want to try it? I don’t think it’s that sweet.” So much for not pushing him, Mads.

  He pulls back to look at me. “You’ve tried it?”

  “Sure.” I shrug. “I
was curious.”

  “Fuck.” He groans before he sits back on his heels and rubs his palm over his forehead. “I can’t eat you out.” The crassness of his words slithers down my spine in the most deliciously sinful way. I can’t believe he said that! “It’ll destroy the rest of my resolve.”

  I sit up on my elbows and blink several times. “Okay,” I whisper softly. “Can we go back to kissing?”

  “No.”

  Dammit, Maddie, you had to get greedy!

  “Touch your pussy,” he demands, his eyes are dark and feral, like he’s preparing to rip me apart with his teeth.

  “What?”

  “Slip your fingers under your leggings. Don’t take them off and don’t show me your pussy. But just finger yourself for me…and I’ll taste you from your fingers.”

  My eyes widen and my heart skips a beat in my chest before it returns to the steady thrumming between my legs. “You’re serious?”

  He nods and moves to sit against the headboard. “Come here.”

  I do as I’m told and he pulls me so that my back is flush against his chest, my ass pressed right up against his cock. His legs are spread and I’m settled between them feeling his cock jump every few minutes. His lips find my ear before he bites down gently. “Pretend it’s me.”

  “I always pretend it’s you.” I turn my head slightly and he presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. I already rubbed myself to two roaring orgasms twice today in response to what happened earlier, but I know I could get off in probably two minutes flat after the last several minutes. I slip my fingers under the waistband of my leggings and press my fingers inside my pussy.

  “How does it feel?”

  “Wet. Slippery.”

  “Fuck. You’re probably soaked, aren’t you? Your panties are drenched.”

 

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