As I stood in front of the full-length mirror, inspecting my naked body, I wished God had granted me more curves. Or any curves at all. I was petite, in a way I felt I had no shape to my body. My breasts were small and there was just enough to spill from my tiny hands. Thank the Lord for push-up bras. If I were being honest, I’d have to say I had great hair. The unique shade of blond had everyone wondering if I dyed it or not.
I had my mother to thank for it; the light blue of my eyes came from my father. I don’t remember much of my mother, since she’d overdosed on heroin when I was only four. Being a girl without her mother had hurt, until Pamela, my stepmother, came into my life. At first, it had felt as though all the praying I’d done in the back of the church as I watched my father addressing the congregation had been answered. She’d come in like an angel descending on me, as if my mother had sent her just for me, with her honey-brown hair, soft brown eyes, and gentle touch.
But that all changed after she and my father married a year later.
She became the epitome of the wicked stepmother. Actually, she overfilled those shoes tenfold. It became the respected Andersons and their daughter, Noelle, Pamela always making it known that I was her stepdaughter. She’d never taught me all the things a mother should, like how to bathe correctly as a woman and what to do when you’d gotten your period—which, by the way, I learned from commercials. Of course, I wasn’t allowed to wear makeup or dress stylishly because that would be like summoning all the devil boys. Or so my dad said.
Most things I learned from Aurora, and since Aurora’s family was similar to mine in their beliefs, she learned them from her neighbor, a woman who lived life like she wanted without anyone telling her otherwise. Even at the age of twenty-two there were still things I didn’t know, and I used Google to educate myself when I was too embarrassed to ask Aurora.
The sound of my cell ringing had me quickly pulling my hands away from my breasts. Retrieving it from the dresser top, I smiled at the screen.
“Hey,” I said as a greeting.
“Why do you sound so happy? Were you playing with yourself?”
“No,” I drawled.
“Oh, my God, you were, weren’t you?” Aurora chuckled.
“No!” I replied firmly.
“Jeez, okay. Anyway, are you ready for your date?”
“I’m getting there. Just got out of the shower,” I told her as I made my way to the closet.
“Good. My shift ran over and I thought I’d miss the preparing stage. Switch over to FaceTime,” she said. It sounded like a door was shutting on her end.
I quickly grabbed a robe from the hook on the closet door and threw it on before switching over to video.
“Oh, my God, what happened to you?” I asked when she popped up on my little screen.
“Ughh, don’t ask,” she said as she looked down at her white dress shirt, stained with a yellowish-brown color. “A couple came into the restaurant with their two-year-old and he started fussing. So I thought I’d be nice, and I took him over to the huge cake display, showing him all the desserts, and then he puked on me.”
I giggled.
“It’s really not funny, Noelle.”
“Yeah,” I propped the cell up on the small dresser that was in the closet, “it kinda is.”
Aurora worked part-time in an old-style diner that had been turned into an Italian restaurant, and also worked a few nights as a dancer at a well-known gentlemen’s club. When I voiced my concerns about her working in a place like that, she’d said, “Everyone has to start somewhere.” It wasn’t like she didn’t have the body for it. She had curves and boobs that I’d die for.
“Glad I didn’t have to tell you to go to my closet.” She laughed.
I rolled my eyes. “I knew you’d make me hunt in here for something to wear, since you despise my clothing options,” I told her as I looked around at the vast number of clothing articles she’d left behind.
“I don’t despise them, honey, they’re just not…” She paused, looking for the right word and when she found it she shrugged. “…dating status.”
“I didn’t know there was ‘dating status apparel.’” I made air quotes.
“You’re so cute.” She laughed. “See that black dress behind you?” She pointed.
I turned to face the neatly hung dresses and pulled out the first black dress I saw.
“This one?” I asked with a little surprise in my voice, holding it up.
“Yep”—she clapped her hands— “that’s it!”
“I am not wearing this!” I said loudly as I inspected the little black dress lacking a lot of material.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because,” I started, and began to place the dress back, “we are only going for lunch.”
When I turned to look at the small screen, I saw she was rolling her eyes, her chest rising before she released a huge huff.
“What?”
“Elle—” She took another deep breath before she went on. “—when are you going to stop these lunch dates?”
“Hey!” I put my hands on my hips. “I had two dates with that Cody guy and the second was a dinner date.”
“Yeah, honey, but when he kissed you and started lifting up your shirt to cop a feel, you ran and ignored his calls and texts for days.”
“That was….” I stuttered. “Because….” I shut my mouth because I had nothing.
“Exactly,” she expressed. “Because you’re scared to give it up.”
“I’m not scared,” I lied, and blew it off with a wave of my hand.
“Mm-hm,” she hummed.
I rapidly turned the subject elsewhere, since we were dipping into territories I was not comfortable talking about. “How’s the dancing going?”
As I fished through her closet for something decent to wear, I listened to her relay the strip club drama. I’d learned one way to get Aurora to stop nagging me about guys was to bring up her dancing. It worked every time.
*~*~*
Six hours later, I walked through the door with a nasty headache. My lunch date had gone horribly. We hadn’t been in the café an hour before Shawn began to run his hand along my thigh under the table, leering at me suggestively.
He had begun asking if I’d like to go back to his place, but I kept dodging the question by asking him questions as I inhaled my turkey club in record time. As soon as the bill came and he tried again, I’d gotten out of there fast. One thing Aurora had taught me was always try and stick out a bad date through the meal, because who doesn’t love a free meal? So I’d done just that, but it hadn’t been enjoyable at all.
On my drive back home, I stopped at the pet store and looked at all the little kittens, admiring the different shades of their fur and picking out which ones I’d like. Because at the rate my dating ventures had been going, I was going to be a lonely cat lady and when that time came I wanted to know which breed to pick.
I was leaning toward the British Shorthair.
It was after I’d left the pet store and was on my way back home, replaying my lunch date in my mind, that I got a headache. I was inspecting every little word that I’d said, and there was only one regret, when I’d called him sir and he gave me that look. Shortly after I spilled that word was when his hand began to travel my thigh. Don’t get me wrong, I’d considered fooling around with him, but I chickened out. That little sad corner of my life called “sexual experience,” was lacking in a way that no twenty-two-year-old woman lacks. Or if she did, she didn’t speak about it to many.
Then I’d remembered what Callen had said, “Princess, calling a male sir can’t be taught by a guy, it’s earned by a man.” Maybe it was the deep, smooth voice uttering those words in my head that’d actually given me the headache. Or how he’d expressed what that word could mean. Or it could’ve been me counting how many times I’d called a male sir. Either way, I’d never realized what that one-syllable term could mean to a certain man. And… I’d said it to plenty.
&nbs
p; Ughh!
I made a vow to never call a male “sir” again.
I threw my purse on the couch and made my way to the bedroom, flopping onto the bed when I was in range.
“Chives,” I mumbled to the silent room. “I’ll call my first cat Chives.” I huffed and my mind drifted. “Chives… Callen… Chives… Callen. No, you moron, it doesn’t rhyme!” I berated myself for thinking such a stupid thing and looked to the bedroom door.
Callen.
I never texted or called him to let him know I wouldn’t be coming today. Not like he’d care or was waiting for me to reach out to him. What if he was? With that thought, I jumped from the bed, made a beeline to my purse, and snatched the cheap-looking smartphone from it. Once back in the bedroom, I toed my Chucks off and lay back on the bed.
I stared at the phone in my hand.
After a few minutes, I pressed the button for the texting window and began to tap on the screen.
Sir, I…
Okay, backspace. Huh, old habits.
Callen, I apologize for not getting in touch with you sooner. But I’d like to let you know that I’ll be coming by tomorrow after I get off work, around three. :)
I tossed the phone to the side and reached for the remote on the nightstand. The clock beside it read 4:34. I knew there’d be nothing on worth watching on a Monday, but I channel surfed anyway. Landing on a talk show, I quickly became entranced with why the mother of five children never dressed her kids in the same outfit, ever. The bed slightly vibrated in a rhythmic beat. I looked to the cell to see the screen was highlighted with a new message.
My pulse rate escalated.
“It’s a freaking phone, Noelle.” I scolded myself for becoming so nervous.
Callen: Yep
I smiled at the one-word reply and could almost hear his voice grunting that yep. I needed to get in, figure out a way to work myself into his head. So I texted back.
Me: How’s your day going?
Laying the cell on my stomach, I rewound the show because I didn’t want to miss why the woman was that way and if they were going to offer her therapy. When my phone buzzed this time, I paused the show.
Callen: Fine
Hmm, man of many words. I carried on anyway.
Me: I had a date today.
After I sent that text, I didn’t hear from him for the rest of the night.
Chapter Four
Callen
*~*DAY 33*~*
Looking out over the immaculate courtyard, I watched patients stirring about.
The one and only thing I’d been glad about was I’d been put into this particular hospital, which didn’t house the more unfortunate people with deeper mental illnesses. My family had checked me into a place that focused on patients that would be able to reenter the world with little or no problems at all.
I rolled my shoulders and stifled a yawn. Sleep never came easy for me, and when it did, it was usually filled with dreams that caused me to wake covered in a sheen of sweat, and trying to piece together where I was. But that wasn’t the case for my lack of sleep last night.
Noelle.
She’d invaded my thoughts as I lay in bed last night staring at the ceiling. I had a date today played in my head more times than I’d wanted to fucking count. I’d been pretty sure she didn’t have a boyfriend, based on her air of total innocence.
No, Noelle Anderson hadn’t had that air of an experienced woman when she walked into a room. What she did have was cute innocence that had every man turning his head and hoping she’d pick him to strip it from her. But I knew I could never be that man. I had too many demons crawling underneath my skin and a rage that would destroy her.
Just as I was ready to shake all thoughts of her from my mind, I felt it. This time it was stronger than the first time.
“Callen?” her soft voice called.
It had me closing my eyes, soaking up the sweetness of it.
“I hope you don’t mind that I’m earlier than I said I’d be.”
I could feel her fully enter the room, and I slowly opened my eyes, not turning or acknowledging her. As I focused on the view out the window, she touched my bicep, causing me to snap them shut again. For a beat, I felt the pureness that glided across my skin. There was a brief second when I wanted to turn around and take her into my arms, fucking hold on to her and just… feel.
She only made it worse when her hand slowly glided down my arm to latch on to my forearm as she came to stand in front of me. She gave a tender squeeze, and I opened my eyes. My vision filled with the radiance of her beauty, almost blinding me. Soft blue eyes stared into mine.
“Hi,” she whispered, then smiled.
My jaw clenched, my hands balled into fists, and I took a deep breath through my nose as I tried to tame the rage invading my body. Considering the gentle sapphire of Noelle’s eyes, it swiftly left me as quickly as it tried to enter.
“You eat?” I asked.
She blinked in confusion. “No. I left work as soon as I was done and came straight here.”
I gave a nod and moved from her hold on my forearm, instantly missing the connection, fixed the beanie on my head, and grunted, “Come on,” then walked out of my room.
I was only a few steps down the hall before she appeared at my side. “Where’re we going?”
“Grab food,” I told her as we made our way to the small cafeteria.
“Oh!” she exclaimed with happiness. “What are they serving for lunch?”
“Lunch is over.”
“Then where’re we getting food?” she questioned.
I stopped and she took a few more steps before she halted and turned to me.
“You ask too many questions,” I grumbled, and began making my way down the hall again with Noelle back at my side, quiet.
Once we passed over the threshold she spoke, but more to herself than me. “This isn’t what I was expecting.”
The dining hall, which I’d called the cafeteria, was a medium-sized room with hardwood floors and set up with four-top tables throughout the space. Vases with fresh flowers, salt and pepper shakers, and napkin holders sat in the middle of each round, light wood table. A chandelier made to look like tiny lamps hung from the center of the ceiling, and a huge mural of a little village took up one wall, trying to give the room the appearance that you were sitting outside a small café in France.
There was a twenty-foot window cut out of the middle of one wall, opening into the kitchen. On one side of the window was a small counter that held a Keurig and an array of decaf coffees and teas with all the fixings. On the other side of the window was a refrigerator that held cold drinks, all decaffeinated, fruits, and snacks that Maggie, the cook, had prepared that morning.
I left Noelle to wander the room as I went to the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water and the brown paper bag that was tucked in the back of the bottom crisper drawer. When I turned to ask if she was ready, I stilled. She stood eyeing the mural and swaying to the beat of the instrumental music that played softly from the speakers tucked into the ceiling. I’d heard the melody many times but never really listened till I saw Noelle rocking in perfect rhythm to the beat.
“I could sit here and look at this all day. Get lost in my own thoughts for hours.”
I could sit here and watch you all fucking day and get lost in the depths of your pussy.
When she stopped talking, she turned and met my gaze. I took in her outfit. She was dressed in a bright pink flowy long-sleeved shirt and fitted khaki shorts that hit her just above the knee. Tan sandals with flowers covering the straps made her look young. The light pink color dotted with a silver sparkle painted on her toes only added to the youthful look.
And there I fucking stood, gazing at her with thoughts of pinning her up against that mural wall and driving deep into her cunt, feeling her tight pussy wrap around my dick as I thrust hard, causing her to score my back with her nails, producing trails of blood and a stinging pain I so fucking craved.
She pointed to the speakers set in the ceiling. “I love this song, it’s….” She trailed off in a whisper when she noticed the intense heat in my eyes.
I shook the erotic images from my head and held her stare for a beat longer before I asked, “You ready?”
She nodded slowly and we moved at the same time, reaching the doorway together. I stood aside, letting her go first, and watched her fine ass encased in khaki shorts move through.
Jesus! What in the fuck are you doing, Callen?
She was silent the whole way as we walked outside and through the courtyard. As we made our way down the small hill to the pond that held three ducks, I ignored the whispers from those we passed. I knew they were talking about Noelle and me. When I dropped to my ass on the grass, she followed suit. After handing her a water, I reached into the bag and pulled out a turkey and swiss sandwich with extra mayo on wheat bread.
I handed her half the sandwich, and she whispered, “Thank you.”
“Welcome,” I grumbled, before taking a huge bite as I looked out at the water.
Through a mouthful, she muttered, “This is delicious.”
“Maggie makes me one every day,” I mumbled, not looking at her because I knew if I watched her eat, my mind would fill with thoughts it fucking shouldn’t have.
“Callen?”
“Hmm.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her twisting to face me. “Why didn’t you text me back yesterday?”
I shrugged.
She placed her sandwich on top of the brown bag between us and took a deep breath before speaking. “I don’t know anything about you or why you’re here. But—” She paused, inhaled, and continued. “—I want to help you, get to know one another, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me in—”
“Have you ever had cock?” I asked firmly, cutting her off.
“Excuse me?”
I looked to her then to see crimson shade her skin and shyness fill her expression.
“You heard me.”
“I….” She paused, straightened her back, looked around, and said, “That’s none of your business.”
DAY 31 Page 3
