DAY 31

by Kane Caldwell

  “Thought you wanted to get to know each other, princess,” I said harshly, throwing her words back at her.

  “Yes, but….” She trailed off and bowed her head, looking to her lap.

  I leaned in, bringing my mouth to her ear. For a brief second I inhaled, soaking up the faint lavender scent of her before whispering in a deep voice, “Three days before I tried to end my life, I had two women. One’s mouth wrapped around my cock, my hands in her hair as I relentlessly fucked her mouth while the other sucked on my balls as she fingered the other girl’s pussy.” I sat back and Noelle slowly lifted her head.

  And when she peered up at me, she had a look of disgust and something else that I couldn’t read across her beautiful face. My eyes drifted to her neck to see the thumping of her pulse against her creamy skin. Her fingers fiddled nervously with the small gold cross. She opened her mouth slightly to say something, but nothing came out.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I stood. “Now, you wanna get to know me?” Before she had a chance to say anything, I walked away.

  *~*~*

  That night I woke with a jerk, covered in a sheen of sweat and with a throbbing, rock-hard cock. It’d been months since my dreams consisted of something other than the horror that haunted me. Never had I fucking thought my dreams would involve my mouth attached to Noelle’s pussy while she moaned my name.

  I rolled over with a grunt, trying to erase the fantasy from my head, but that only made it worse because my dick made contact with the hard mattress. Before I realized what I was doing, my hips began to move, causing my cock to glide inside my boxer briefs. The friction produced a quiet, deep groan to escape my chest. I raised one arm above my head and clutched the thin pillow with visions of it being her hand; the other gripped the sheets firmly. Holding on tight, I rocked my hips and dug my face into my forearm as her face filled my mind.

  I knew I shouldn’t be doing it, but my body wouldn’t stop.

  The images wouldn’t stop.

  Watching her soft features turn into a picture of need and want before my closed lids, her sweet voice moaning with every profound thrust into her wet cunt, I couldn’t stop. Gripping the pillow forcefully, breathing raggedly, it wasn’t going to be long before I was blowing my load in my boxer briefs like a fucking middle school kid.

  And when I finally came, her name quietly fell from my lips.

  Chapter Five

  Noelle

  *~*DAY 36*~*

  I was mindlessly twirling the pen along the oak desktop, my concentration not on the bank statements that sat in front of me.

  Callen.

  Callen freaking Westbrook.

  For the past two days, he’d occupied my every thought. From the way he talked to the way he carried himself with such confidence and an edge that people took a step or two back when he moved past them. His looks, my God, he was… stunning, handsome in a way that had you wanting to stare at him for long periods of time, completely mesmerized by his rugged beauty, knowing you’d never see anyone as gorgeous as him again.

  But what had really occupied most of my mind was what he admitted happened a few days before he’d tried to take his life. I couldn’t lie, I’d come home, gone straight to my laptop, and looked up videos with two girls and one guy. I’d never seen anything like it. It was erotic, dirty, and left me with a heat between my legs, a fire burning so deep inside that I’d taken care of myself in the shower that night. I’d felt a pang of jealousy for the two women Callen had been with.

  They’d been able to explore him in the most intimate way, a desire I’d been harboring in the back of my mind, not wanting to bring it to the forefront of my thoughts in fear that it would consume me. Consume me in a way he was currently doing.

  I’d even picked up my cell a dozen times to call Dr. Meyers and tell him I was sorry but I couldn’t continue with the visiting program. But I couldn’t. For one, he’d most likely question why I’d jumped at the chance for Callen to be the patient I visited. Before, he’d thrown me a questioning look but agreed the match was perfect. Two, I’d never get the answers I so desperately needed.

  “Ellie, girl?”

  I internally groaned when my father appeared in the doorway calling me by my pet name. He and my stepmother were the only ones that called me Ellie, and I freaking despised it. I honestly thought he did it out of spite, since my mother had picked Noelle to be my name and my father had fought her on it. Apparently she’d gotten a hold of the birth certificate before him since I also carried her last name, Anderson.

  “Hey, Dad, what’s up?” I greeted as I moved from aimlessly spinning the pen to jabbing the tip of it on a notepad.

  “Pamela is making a roast for dinner, what do you say?” he asked, flashing that award-winning smile of his.

  And I was going to piss him off in three, two, one….

  “Sorry, Dad, got plans,” I returned, and pulled my eyes from his before I had a chance to see the scowl take over his aging handsome face.

  “Noelle Rae,” he called harshly, making his way to stand in front of my desk. “Just because I let you move out of my house, thirty minutes away and into that girl’s place so you could live closer to FSU and take the business courses you feel the need to take doesn’t mean you don’t abide by my rules.”

  I took a deep breath, looked up, and calmly stated, “Dad, I am twenty-two years old. I shouldn’t be abiding by your rules anymore. I’m a grown woman.”

  He put his hands on the desk and leaned in, whispering firmly, “You will always abide by my rules, Noelle.” He straightened and headed for the door, firmly ordering, “I’ll see you at four thirty, young lady.”

  Once he disappeared across the threshold, I exhaled and closed my eyes. I never understood why I felt the need to piss him off any chance I got. Maybe it was because I knew the man beneath the sharpness of Pastor Marshall Riley. But as much as I went head-to-head with him, I knew I’d always lose. And now hadn’t been a good time to let him have it and finally win a fight, as much as I wanted to, because he had no idea I wasn’t taking courses at FSU. Instead I was crossing the border into Georgia and had enrolled in the visiting program at Mountains Bay Mental Health Facility, an hour from where I lived.

  If he found out why, he’d kill me.

  *~*~*

  Just as I pulled into my father’s driveway, my run-down 2000 Chevy Cavalier stalled. I let out an aggravated sigh, as I knew car shopping was approaching. The only problem was, I couldn’t afford a car payment, and all the money I’d saved would only buy me another crappy car. Maybe it was time I asked my dad for a raise.

  I was digging in my purse for the cell Dr. Meyers had handed out when my brother, Noah, came storming out the front door.

  “Noelle!” he screamed, making his way across the perfectly manicured lawn. A second later my stepmother peeked out the storm door.

  “Noah? You know not to go on the lawn!” She rolled her eyes and disappeared, slamming the door shut.

  Not a wave, hello, or a screw you, Noelle. Nothing. I giggled when I spied Noah stop and smash his sneakered feet into the green grass. It was absolutely ridiculous that no one was allowed on the lawn. Kids were supposed to be able to play in their front and back yards. But not in the Anderson house, no, everything needed to be neat and pristine, just as everyone in the community saw us.

  I tossed the phone back into my purse when Noah swung my door open.

  “Ughh!” he let out, and began his normal routine. “When are you moving back home, ’cause I can’t stand it here without you, Noelle. And I can only spend so much time over Robbie’s house ’cause he gets annoying—”

  “Buddy, slow down.” I cut him off and he stepped back to let me fold out of the car. “I don’t know,” I lied to him, because I had no intention of moving back home, but I couldn’t bear breaking his heart and telling him that.

  We walked in the house hand in hand as he told me all about school and how rough it was being an eleven-year-old middle schooler. A
s usual, my dad was planted in his leather wingback chair with the newspaper spread open in his hands. I went over to him, kissed his cheek, and greeted, “Hello, Dad.”

  He gave me a curt nod and that was all. Next, with Noah on my heels, I went to the kitchen where Pamela was dressed like June Cleaver, apron and all. I showed her the same respect I did my father and kissed her cheek.

  “Hello, Pamela.”

  “Ellie,” she returned curtly, before turning back to stirring boiling potatoes.

  I looked to my brother, Noah, who was standing in the doorway waiting for the chance to drag me off to his bedroom.

  “Dinner smells amazing,” I said, trying my best to sound happy to be here.

  “It does, doesn’t it,” she replied flatly.

  I rolled my eyes and turned to my brother. “You want to go a few rounds on that racing game, buddy?”

  His eyes lit up when he nodded.

  “Fifteen minutes is all he gets!” our father yelled from the front room.

  When Noah’s shoulders slumped, I made a funny face and caused his somber expression to change. Then we went off to his bedroom and didn’t come out until thirty minutes had passed.

  *~*~*

  I left my dad’s house with the promise of taking Noah overnight when my dad and Pamela had a church function they needed to attend. It wasn’t until I was back home and settled in my pajamas that I retrieved the cell from my purse. Once I pressed the button and the screen lit up, I saw there’d been two missed calls and one voicemail. My heart skipped a beat and my pulse rate began to escalate as I quickly worked my fingers over the screen. But as rapidly as those sensations arose, they diminished when I saw the missed calls and voicemail had been from Dr. Meyers.

  I listened to the message he’d left asking me to call him as soon as I could and that he’d be in his office until nine. The time in the right upper corner of the small screen read 7:54. I let out a sigh and poured myself a glass of white wine and settled into the couch before returning his call.

  “Dr. Meyers,” he greeted after three rings.

  “Hello, Dr. Meyers, this is Noelle Anderson. I’m returning your call as you asked.”

  “Oh, yes, Noelle. Please call me Thomas,” he returned with a light voice.

  I smiled as his good humor became infectious. “Okay, how can I help you, Thomas?”

  He let out a breath and started, “It’s Callen.” He paused.

  In the brief moment of silence my heart dropped into my stomach, causing a wave of nausea to clench it.

  “He’s okay, right?” I blurted out hoarsely as bile began to burn the back of my throat.

  “Yes, yes. I’m sorry if I worried you. He’s fine, well, I guess okay is a better word.” He gave a little chuckle before continuing, “He won’t speak to me about why the last time you were here he threw his phone at his wall, causing it to shatter into a million pieces.”

  At his confession, I sucked in a breath and my heart rose back up into my chest, radiating pain.

  “I….” I stopped, at a loss for words because I didn’t know if I should tell him exactly what had happened.

  “Noelle?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s a broken man. Feels he doesn’t deserve anything good in his life. You my dear, are good and—”

  “I’ll call him,” I said, cutting him off.

  “I think that’d be a good thing. We replaced his phone and the number is still the same.”

  “Okay,” I replied, focusing my attention on the glass of wine sitting in front of me on the coffee table, lost in thought.

  “Thank you, Noelle,” he said softly.

  “Of course, Thomas. Have a great night and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  And just like that, I made the decision to continue visiting Callen. We said our goodbyes and ended the call. I never gave it a second thought as I thumbed the screen and hit Call. It rang four times before going to voicemail. I hung up and called back. The same thing happened. I repeated my steps five times before he finally answered.

  “Jesus, what?” he grated harshly.

  “Hi, Callen, how are you?” I asked sweetly, not letting his tone get to me.

  “Fine,” he answered abruptly.

  I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile at his rude tone because I pictured him with the hard expression he always held etched across his face. And for some reason, I found it cute.

  “Really?” I tested.

  He didn’t answer.

  “That’s not what I heard,” I pushed, but he didn’t answer, so I went on. “Why did you feel the need to destroy your phone, Callen?”

  Again, he didn’t answer me, just grunted.

  I took two hefty swigs of my wine, and I wasn’t sure if the warmth of the alcohol that was currently flowing through my veins gave me courage, but I told him, “I’m not backing down, Callen. You can try and push me away, but I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Then why haven’t you come back?” he whispered.

  I pushed aside what the whisper was doing to my female parts and realized I’d hit a nerve.

  “I was giving you space,” I lied.

  “Fucking liar,” he called me out.

  “How do you—” I started, but didn’t get far as he cut me off.

  “I saw the look on your face, princess, when I told you that I was with two women.” We were silent a beat before he went on. “I’ve seen that look before, disgust, and that’s exactly how you felt about me. So you can take your fucking innocence and try to inject that sweetness into someone else,” his voice got low and deep, “’cause it ain’t gonna happen with me.” And with that he hung up on me.

  I pulled the cell from my ear and looked at the screen, highlighted with “call ended.” I went to the fridge and topped off my half-empty glass and took a healthy swig from the bottle before I put it back. Rolling my shoulders, I hit Call.

  “For fucks sake, what!”

  “Did you ever play a racing game on the Xbox?” I started, ignoring his terseness. “I can’t remember the name of it, but tonight I went to dinner at my parents’ house and my little brother, Noah, and I played it. It was fun.”

  I continued for ten minutes, telling him all about the game and how I sucked at it. How you could build a car if you wanted to, and I was caught by surprise when he chimed in.

  “Forza.”

  “Yes,” I answered excitedly. “That’s it. Have you ever played it?”

  “Yeah,” he replied shortly.

  I did a little victory bounce in my seat when I realized I had an in. I went with it, and for the next hour and a half we talked about that stupid game I had no interest in. Okay, I did most of the talking, but he did add a few words here and there, and I found out that he and his brother, Benjamin, used to play it over Xbox live. When he wouldn’t divulge any information on his brother, I pressed and discovered that Benjamin was older than him by four years, making him forty-two. And as we continued for another hour, he told me his brother was a single parent to a little girl named Arabella, age four.

  It was when I began to pry more into his life that without warning he asked in a husky voice, “What are you wearing?”

  Butterflies immediately took flight in my now wine-soaked belly as heat grew between my legs. I looked down at myself and rolled my eyes at my pajama choice. We were silent for a minute as I wondered if I should play along. Then reason came to the forefront and pointed out that this wasn’t just some guy I was getting to know. Not like that.

  “Pink-and-white-checkered tank top and shorts.” I told him the truth.

  He let out a quieted grunt and quickly said, “I gotta go.”

  The phone went dead. I stood on wobbly legs and made my way to my bedroom, telling myself my unsteady steps had to do with the two glasses of wine I’d consumed and not his words in that deep, rough tone of his. I tossed the cell on the nightstand and slid into bed, and as I lay there, impure thoughts of what Callen’s hands would feel like on my body cl
ouded my head. Before I knew what I was doing, my hand slipped beneath the waistband of my shorts and into my panties. When my fingers found the wetness, I glided my index finger through it, bringing it to my hardened, throbbing clit with nothing but Callen filling my mind.

  Chapter Six

  Callen

  *~*DAY 37*~*

  I’d just finished working out in the small gym when I entered the cafeteria. After grabbing myself a healthy pile of eggs and bacon from the warming platters on the counter, I made my way to the back of the room and placed my tray on a table. As I worked my way to the fridge to grab an orange juice and a bottle of water, Steven called out to me.

  “Callen?”

  I ignored him.

  “Callen!” he called louder, this time making everyone look my way. “After dinner can—”

  “No!” I rumbled, not making eye contact with him.

  “Okay,” he drawled.

  “Maybe he’s gonna give it to his new friend,” Aaron chimed in, then chuckled.

  “Ohhh,” Steven hummed excitedly. “You gonna give your pudding to your visitor, Callen?”

  I sat down and made eye contact with Steven, and when he muttered, “Never mind,” it was clear he could read the fuck-off expression on my face.

  “I’m sure he’d like to give his pudding to his sweet young visitor,” Aaron mumbled around a mouthful of pancakes.

  I stood as the anger began to build inside, the rage deep within my bones surfacing, ready to fight. But when Sylvia, Dr. Meyers’s secretary, entered the room, I sat back down. Aaron chuckled again, causing Danny to snort and slap his leg. I looked over to Samantha, who just rolled her eyes and went back to reading her book.

  Yep, this was fucking breakfast, and every other meal, at the great Mountains Bay Mental Health Facility. Aaron and Danny sitting together cracking stupid jokes, Steven always asking for everyone’s pudding as he sat by himself doing crossword puzzles, and Samantha with her nose in a book. Me, ignoring as much as I’d could in the room.