“Or perhaps to dump on top of the head of an arrogant aristocrat?” Callie shot back immediately, scooping a freshly buttered bagel off of her plate to aim it square in his direction.
She rather enjoyed the panic stricken expression that marred his flawless features as he no doubt contemplated the impending ruination of his crisp pressed white suit; or perhaps of the combed, coiffed hairdo that seemed shellacked in place.
Oh, how very tempting it was to ruin that blasted hairdo, or soil that ever lovin’, overpriced suit. Yet just as she tried to summon the long unused skills she’d learned as a top line pitcher for her grade school powder puff softball game, she caught a glimpse of the hostess whose cordial smile had dissolved to a sad, miserable frown.
Turning in full to face her mother, she saw sadness in the depths of her wide dark eyes; her cherry red lips downturned in a frown as she contemplated the scene before her.
Evidently sensing his bride’s distress, a suddenly solemn Harry squeezed her hand as he fixed her with a loving look.
Her previous ire forgotten, Callie watched with a tranquil smile as her mother’s suitor reached over to kiss her rosy cheek; giving her a tender squeeze as she beamed in response.
It had been a long time, she reasoned, since she’d her mother display that girlish, giddy smile that she once reserved only for her husband. And the last thing she wanted to do was destroy that newfound happiness.
Shifting her gaze to the man she’d previously targeted for assault with a fresh buttered bagel, she hoped against hope that he, too, would be touched by the scene before him.
She started as she realized that Hamilton seemed oblivious to the tenderness shared between their parents. Instead he seemed to be staring straight at her.
She arched her eyebrows as his deep azure eyes graced her with a long, intense look; one accompanied by the slight upward curving of his full, moist lips.
“OK, so he’s probably just pleased that he got me riled up enough to even consider assault with a bagel,” she mused, forcing her gaze from hers even as an involuntary tremble coursed the length of her spine.
“Harry,” she said aloud, shifting her gaze to his father. “Thank you so much for your kind words about our meal. Although I admit that I was a bit shocked by the news of my mother’s engagement, I have to admit that you two look very happy together.” She paused here, adding as she aimed a warm smile in her mother’s direction, “And when this lady is happy, I’m happy.”
Harry smiled.
“You don’t know how much good it does me to hear that, Callie,” he told her with a warm smile. “Especially since your mother and I have a very special request for you. If you both are willing, we would love for you to stand up with us on our wedding today. You, Callie, will make a lovely maid of honor.” He paused here, adding with a pointed stare in his son’s direction, “And if my son can keep his wise acre mouth shut for the duration of the ceremony, then he is more than welcome to stand by my side as my best man.”
Jama nodded.
“Look Kids, we know that this news hasn’t been easy for either of you,” she admitted, adding with an abiding smile, “but the fact is that Harry and I have fallen hopelessly, deeply in love. And if you please could accept this crazy situation, we certainly could make it worth your while. Aside from standing up with us at our wedding, we would love for you to come with us for our Vegas honeymoon.”
Callie gaped.
“What?” she exclaimed, her cutlery clattering everywhere as she considered these words.
Harry nodded.
“We figure we might as well make it a family vacation,” he agreed, adding with eyebrows arched, “So what do you say, Kids?”
Hamilton shrugged.
“Well we might as well,” he agreed with a shrug. “I already have a closet full of fine tailored suits more than suitable—if you’ll excuse the dry pun—for a wedding. And since my bros and I tend to hit Vegas once a month anyway, I’m sure I could make the trip.”
“I’m not sure I’ll survive the trip,” Callie thought immediately, putting on a brave voice as she added aloud, “Count us in, Mom and…” she paused here, adding with an awkward shrug (because, after all, she had yet to learn just what one did call a prospective stepfather), “….Harry.”
Chapter Three
“He’s probably the hottest man I’ve ever seen, outside of Hollywood movies and in random copies of Tons of Hunks Monthly—that I just came across by chance, of course, and did not actually go into a store and buy. And I totally, absolutely despise him.”
Seated in her small, modest dressing room at Night Life, a night club where she sometimes performed when she was home from school, Callie held a makeup brush in one hand and a silver metallic cell phone in the other; using the latter to relay this message to her mother.
Jama, much to her keen consternation, met her last, loudly expressed words with a round of robust, loudly expressed laughter.
“You remind me of me, darling, when I first went to work for Harry two years ago,” she revealed. “Believe me, the gentle, charming man that you met at brunch last week is a far cry from the demanding, arrogant jerk that I first went to work for—but as I got to know him outside of work, on a deeper level, I saw his other side. Here’s hoping that Hamilton has another side as well—even if it is deeply, deeply, deeply hidden.”
Callie snorted.
“I do believe I’d venture to add at least two and a quarter more ‘deeplys’ to that equation,” she told her mother, adding with a sigh, “But enough about the Beau Brat. I’m about to take the stage at Night Life for the first time in months, and I am so looking forward to it.”
Moments later Callie found herself center stage at the small but clean lined night spot highlighted with expansive high definition video screens, brilliant azure light rods lining the darkened halls, sleek chairs and couches of rich blue velvet, and a stage that afforded her a single bright spotlight.
The small but devoted crowd, filled as it was with friends and fans straight from her hometown, cheered her every verse as she delivered her own personal brand of alt feminist folk pop. And as she strummed her signature (well, her only) guitar and sang her heart out, her appreciative gaze scanned the crowd; coming to rest on a handsome, chiseled guest who sat front row center—fixing her with a probing, penetrating gaze that seared right through to her soul.
“Speak of the devil,” she breathed, squinting to identify the attentive audience member as one Hamilton Sanders, newly minted bane of her existence. “Most literally.”
Although she struggled to focus on the lyrics and tone of the songs remaining on her set, her gaze and focus kept wandering to the man who stared at her with unyielding intensity—his face unreadable as their gazes met and locked.
It seemed like an eternity until her first break of the evening arrived an hour later. And when it did she hopped up from her plain pleather stool and—after bowing in response to a standing ovation lead by the official and unabashed bane of her existence, dressed sportingly enough in a black velvet dinner suit and sleek white satin shirt—she bounded from the stage to greet him with a hearty welcome of, “What are you doing here?”
Meeting her words with a loud, sharp guffaw, Hamilton stood from his table to pull out a seat for her; one she took with great reluctance as he greeted in return, “Well thank you for the warm welcome, Ms. Bradford. I may just have to take back the $100 bill I just slipped in your tip jar at the side of the stage.”
Callie smiled, but only briefly.
“Look Dude, while I appreciate you coming to the show and giving me a most generous tip, it does not make up for the way that you treated my mom and me the other day,” she informed him, adding as she pointed an accusing finger in his direction, “My mom has worked her fingers to the bone to take care of us since Dad died, and you practically implied that she and I are both gold diggers.”
Hamilton nodded.
“Well actually, that’s one of the reasons I came toni
ght,” he released on a sigh, adding as he made a broad gesture between them, “I suspect, Callie, that you and I have more in common than you know. We both love our parents to the point of distraction. And we both wanted nothing more than to see them stay together for the rest of our lives.” He paused here, adding in a low, soft tone, “When my parents got a divorce four years ago, I was devastated. I was used to having everything in life go my way, and then—when something didn’t—I was not prepared to deal with it. The only thing that got me through, in fact, was the remote hope that, someday and in some way, they might get back together. When Dad announced that he was marrying his secretary, my hopes were dashed.”
Callie nodded.
“Well believe me, I am sorry for you and I can relate,” she admitted, tone softening as she added, “I always believed that my parents would be that sweet little silver haired couple you see walking hand in hand at the grocery store—and when Dad was taken from us, at such a young age, I never could picture Mom with anyone else.” She paused here, and looked him straight in the eyes and added, “Still and all, you didn’t see me being rude and dismissive to the man she plans to marry.”
Hamilton sighed.
“So I guess the fact that I showed up at your performance, gave you a $100 tip, and explained my behavior is not enough to earn your forgiveness,” he observed, adding as he stroked his sculpted chin to thoughtful effect, “Now what can I do to get in your good favor? Ah, I have an idea.”
Surging forward across the table, Hamilton seized Callie’s lips in a hot, impulsive kiss; his full, moist mouth massaging hers as his long, wet tongue plundered her mouth.
Swallowing her startled breath, he cupped her round cheeks in two sturdy hands and rubbed his sultry lips against hers; his tongue engaging hers in a decadent tango as she leaned into his kiss.
Blown away by his sudden advance, Callie nonetheless reveled in the warmth and perfection of his hot, flawless kiss; and when she finally broke the kiss a full moment later, she opened her eyes to meet an azure gaze that smoldered with desire.
Up close she saw in full the perfection of Hamilton’s sculpted visage: his gem blue eyes, his sculpted cheekbones, and those sumptuous lips that she longed to kiss again.
Then, remembering both their public surroundings and the fact that she royally hated his guts, she decided against it.
“Is that your idea of an apology?” she spat out, sitting back against her seat as she pierced him with a hard, cold look; a feeling that still was not quite seeping through to the rest of her rebellious body, which now thrummed and pounded with desire for this man.
Hamilton shook his head.
“It’s my idea of what I’ve wanted to do to you since the moment we met,” he corrected her, his breath flowing out in hot, hard gusts as he seared her with a look that blazed with desire. “Never, Callie, has a woman talked back to me the way that you did at breakfast the other morning. And I was equally impressed by the great kindness that you showed to both your mother and my father. Now that I have heard your angelic singing voice, and heard the wisdom and spirit in your lyrics…” he paused here, adding as his massive chest heaved in a show of raw desire, “God help me Callie but I want you...I don’t think I’ve never wanted another woman more.”
Callie said nothing in response to these words, only froze as her entire being was overtaken by a wave of cold shock—accompanied and intermingled with a bolder wave of red hot desire.
She jumped seconds later as another deep masculine voice—this one belonging to Vic, the manager and co-owner of Night Life—called her back to the stage.
“Um,” she mumbled, jumping up from her seat at Hamilton’s table as she nodded short and sharp in his direction, “Hold that thought, okay?”
Two hours later Callie found herself once again on the main floor of Night Life; this time clasped in the muscular arms of the man who’d quickly become her biggest fan.
Having completed her show 10 minutes ago, she and Hamilton now joined a throng of dancers who moved and swayed to the sound of a jukebox that played a selection of love songs from the past two decades.
Only Callie failed to notice the particular tunes that guided her dance; all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart as she clung to the man she found irresistible. As her arms wound around his muscled shoulders, and her tender breasts crushed the surface of his hard muscled chest, she couldn’t help but lose herself in his tight embrace; staring deep into those gorgeous eyes as their hips swayed together and he swept her across the dance floor.
“So it’s very nice to see that you’re warming up to me just a bit, baby,” he whispered, adding as he gyrated his trim hips hard and suggestive against hers, “And once you see the surprise I have waiting for you outside, I have the distinct feeling that that warmth just might blaze into heat.”
Taking the hand of a quiet Callie, Hamilton lead her out the front door of the night club and in the direction of the curb that formed its northern border; a curb lined with an assortment of vehicles that ranged from hatch backs to pickup trucks, vans to convertibles—along with a long, sleek ebony limousine that just happened to stick out like the proverbial sore thumb.
“One of these things is not like the other,” Callie sang, adding as she graced a grinning Hamilton with a sharp, playful nudge, “Now, let me try and venture a wild, totally random guess as to which car is yours?”
Her question was answered moments later, as she was waved into the velvet cushioned back seat of the limo that sparkled bright in the light of a full Florida moon; admiring the way that its golden beams cast the car’s luxurious interior in a lovely, almost surreal glow.
Also glowing in this ethereal light was the sparkling magnum of French champagne that was presented her in the back of the limo; one that came courtesy of an attentive date who advised his driver to “show them the town.”
Chapter Four
Soon she and Hamilton found themselves speeding through the streets of the downtown area; a blanket of gleaming, crystalline stars marking their way as their glasses clinked together in a midnight toast.
“So I must say, Miss, that I was most impressed by your show tonight,” Hamilton whispered, leaning inward to sear her lips with a hard, hot kiss, “Let me ask you, are you considering applications for groupies? You know, those particularly devoted fans who would do anything to please you?” he said these last words on a succulent purr that sent a bolt of arousal searing through her being with sudden and overwhelming force.
“Well I’m always taking applications,” she whispered, taking a long, fortifying sip of bubbly as her eyes issued him a sensual challenge he seemed all too willing to meet.
Dropping to his knees before her with a single smooth flourish, he took her tired feet into two strong hands and freed them from their confining black pumps; rubbing her tired pads before leaning forward to suckle her toes in a worshipful manner.
Throwing her head back, Callie let loose with a shocked gasp as an attentive Hamilton kissed his ways up her legs and thighs; his sturdy hands all the while massaging her soft fleshed, fully made hips.
“I plan to show you just how modest and humble I can be, Ms. Bradford,” he growled, adding as he surged upward beneath the fabric of her soft denim shirt, “Not to mention willing to please.”
With these words he surged forth to lick open her soft feminine folds; fixing his full, moist lips around her heaving clit as she moaned with contentment.
Kissing and licking her swollen nub with warm, attentive lips, he moved his head from side to side to intensify the divine friction of his mouth against her skin; letting loose with what seemed to be a proud chuckle as his lover cried out with a pleasured gasp.
Deep in her psyche Callie knew this was wrong. She knew that nothing good could come of getting involved with the man who was about to become part of her family; yet right now, at this moment, all she could focus on was the intense pleasure that ran wild through every part of her body. She even thrust her hips f
orward to intensify the sensation as he leaned his perfect head farther inward, licking and nipping her swollen clit as the strands of his thick, silky hair brushed the skin of her fleshy thighs.
Finally and with a last resounding lick he sent her over the edge of an intense, pounding orgasm; one that made her tremble from head to toe as she howled her pleasure.
Surging upward to catch up her body in two tender arms, he swept her up in an impassioned embrace as he laid her with care down the length of his ultra-soft back seat; their arms and legs entangling as their lips collided in a fierce, intense kiss.
The couple peeled each other’s clothes off before sinking full into the depths of their luxurious trysting spot; their hips and thighs locking between them as her bare breasts crushed the surface of his hard massive chest.
Lowering his head to kiss the sensitive skin of her breasts, her lover suckled her nipples until they hardened and stiffened beneath his attentive lips; all the while stroking and tickling her sides as she wrapped her arms around his planed back.
Still famished for the lusty attentions of her talented, ardent lover, Callie allowed her ravenous hands to roam free down the hard muscled surface of his perfect pecs and his flawless washboard abs; her eyes flying open to admire the whole of his immaculate masculine beauty.
Finally her agile fingertips closed around the base of his long, hard cock, an impressive shaft that seemed to salute her presence as he gasped outright in a show of raw desire.
“So tell me my lady, does your groupie please you?” he growled against her lips, adding as he flipped over on his back and flexed his every golden muscle for her sublime pleasure, “Then take him!”
ROMANCE: THREESOME : Billionaire Brothers' Party (MFM Menage Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Threesome Short Stories) Page 55
