by S. M. Soto
His grip on the side of my neck tightens as he pulls away, staring down at me with so much heat in his gaze, I’m surprised I don’t catch fire and find myself engulfed in flames.
“I’m starting to feel like Rose in Titanic.” My voice comes out breathy, too needy after that kiss.
Callan laughs. “Why am I not surprised?”
My cheeks ache with how hard I’m smiling. “Will you get behind me and hold me, Jack?”
He rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”
But he does just that. He gets right up behind me, his hands secured around my waist, the hard planes of his body distracting me. He bends, his warm breath fanning my ear as he whispers, “Like this?”
My stomach dips, and my core throbs with excitement. I rest my hands on top of his and squeeze. “Kiss me again, please.”
A growl reverberates in his throat seconds before he captures my cheek in his hand, urging my lips up to his. We kiss like that, at the bow of his yacht, his warm lips on mine, and his arms wrapped around me like we’re a couple.
For once, it feels like he’s mine.
“I want you,” I breathe into his mouth between breaths. The need thrumming through my veins is making me hazy with lust. So out of my mind that when he whirls me around, lifting me into his arms, I drop the blanket and wrap my legs around him. I don’t care who’s around, I don’t care who’s watching, all I care about is him taking me to the nearest bed and getting him inside me.
We stumble through the yacht, our lips never leaving each other’s. I feel his hardness prodding at my center, and of their own accord, my hips grind over his length, making him hiss.
Callan slams the door behind us, and as soon as my back collides with the soft sheets on the bed, we part, undressing each other. My hands rip at his clothes, trying to get off all the layers just to get a glimpse of his skin.
My mouth waters at the sight. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of seeing Callan naked. He’s perfect.
It’s nearly impossible to lift my eyes and deprive them of such a magnificent view.
Callan Reed is positively devilish. Completely sinful. With a jawline that would make any sculptor weep and eyes as bright as sunlight on chrome, he’s a walking wet dream. He flashes me a crooked, dirty smile as if sensing my train of thought. Sensing just how badly I want him.
He stalks toward me slowly, like a predator would its prey, eyes glittering with desire. Telling all the things he plans on doing to my body. I shoot my hand out between us, stopping him from coming any closer. He cocks an eyebrow, clearly confused. And I smile.
I slide off the bed and guide him toward it. Shoving him back onto the mattress, I drop to my knees before him.
Licking at my suddenly dry lips, I reach for the waistband of his briefs and pause there, glancing up at him through my lashes. A moan gets caught in my throat at the way he’s looking at me. As though he’s barely restraining himself.
Dragging his briefs down his muscular thighs, his cock bobs free, standing at attention. He’s incredibly thick, the head of his cock already leaking with precum. With a slow, practiced lick, I follow the veins along his shaft with my tongue, enjoying the sharp hiss of pleasure he releases.
When he least expects it, I swirl my tongue over his head, licking at him before I suck him into my mouth, taking him all the way in until he hits the back of my throat. His hands fly to my hair, and he grips, slowly guiding his cock between my lips, fucking my mouth.
I look up at him through my lashes, and just to torture him, I release him from my lips with a pop and press my tits together around his erection. Callan groans. The sight of his cock between my breasts almost too much to bear.
“Do you still want to fuck these?” I ask, gently stroking up and down, relishing the way his damp shaft slides between my soft skin there. My breath catches at the dark look in his eyes. He’s smoldering. He’s watching me with a heavy-lidded gaze as I fuck him with my breasts. Callan is staring at me like he wants to eat me alive. His tongue slides leisurely along the seam of his lips, as though he’s dying to have his mouth on me.
“Squeeze those perfect tits tighter. Yeah, just like that,” he breathes out. “Pinch those nipples for me, too, baby.”
I work his erection between my tits, and with an impatient growl, he drags me up to my feet and dives in, taking my lips savagely, moving fast and making it sting so sweetly when he sucks and bites at my bottom lip as though he’s starving.
I moan, feeling his cock that’s still coated in my saliva prodding at me, damn near demanding entrance. We fall back onto the bed in a heap. Callan rips the scrap of lace from my skin with a barely restrained growl. His mouth encloses around a nipple, and I toss my head back, groaning my approval. He flicks his tongue over each hardened peak, his hand skimming down my body, settling between my legs to play with my drenched center.
“Such a hot little pussy,” he breathes as he slips two fingers inside me. Heat engulfs me as though I’m going up in flames. With each stroke and crook of his fingers, I jerk on the bed, ready to fall apart. And I do. When his thumb rubs firm circles over my clit, I detonate around him, my inner muscles clamping around his fingers.
He slams inside me mid-orgasm, and I cry out, feeling the sweet ache of him stretching me. Resting both hands beside my head, he pounds into me, harder, and harder, and harder, as though he’s trying to bury himself deep enough.
I love the feel of him, how he fits me so perfectly. I love the smell and taste of him, both of which excite, and oddly enough, calm me. But what I love the most about Callan in these moments is the way he stares down at me. The way his eyes watch me as he hovers above me. It’s a deep connection, like twin flames reconnecting after centuries apart. Everything feels right when he looks at me like this. Like I’m all he needs. Like I’m a goddess, and he can’t seem to get enough.
He reaches down between my legs and hooks an arm under my right thigh, spreading me at a new angle. My eyes slam shut, and I arch my back as he thrusts his cock inside me again and again, going faster and faster until all I can do is clutch onto his shoulders for support and ride out the impending orgasm.
Reaching between our bodies, Callan rubs circles over my clit, and I moan, clawing at his flesh. The force with which he’s driving into me and the sensation of him stroking my clit are driving me wild, so wild, I let out a strangled whimper. I roll my hips beneath him, meeting his thrusts, fucking him back from the bottom.
Peeling my eyes open, I look up at him, seeing his eyes on mine, and we both watch each other, our lips barely an inch apart as he lowers his forehead to mine. Beneath all that burning desire is an inexplicable softness as he stares down at me, and I cling to it like a goddamn lifeline.
“You’re fucking beautiful like this.”
I whimper at his words. My pussy clenches around his shaft, and I gasp when I feel the tip of his cock rubbing my G-spot. My eyes roll into the back of my head, my orgasm cresting deep inside.
“That’s it, baby. Squeeze that tight little cunt on my cock, just like that.”
Callan dips his tongue into my mouth and kisses me long and slow. That’s all it takes. My insides tighten and clench, and while his body doesn’t slow down, his lips captivate me. They’re incredibly soft, sweet, and gentle as he drags my orgasm out of me. I cry out, a stray tear leaking out of the corner of my eye. My body won’t stop trembling. My heart won’t stop pounding.
Even though I know he’s not done, Callan slides out of me and rolls onto the bed beside me. I cock an eyebrow.
“Why did you stop?”
His lips quirk with amusement. “You look like you’re going to die.”
I laugh. My gaze slides down to his cock, drenched in my orgasm, still standing proudly at attention. I lick my lips, and even though my body protests, I climb over him and align his cock with my center. Our eyes lock, and as soon as I slide down his length, we both groan.
Dropping my head back, I ride him.
I ride Callan slow and sensuall
y, the pads of my fingers digging into his chest. He grips my hips so tightly I know he’ll leave bruises, but he lets me have this. He doesn’t try to take over. He leaves it to me. He lets me set the rhythm and take control. And when I lean down, taking his lips with mine, picking up the tempo, he comes inside me.
I collapse next to him on the bed, and my eyes flutter shut. I should get up and clean myself, but it feels as though my body has no strength. He sets a blanket over my body, and in no time, I feel my consciousness slipping.
Just as I’m on the cusp of sleep, Callan brushes my hair out of my face, tracing my cheekbone, then my lips.
“Earlier, you asked, ‘why you’ and ‘why now.’ I didn’t answer you the way I should’ve. I couldn’t,” he whispers. “The truth is, it’s always been you, Daisy. Always.”
I fall under just as his lips press against mine.
As Callan works in his home office, I’m sitting in the living room folding clothes and watching TV with Faith when I hear her babbling, and out of the corner of my eye, I see something. Whipping my head to the right, I widen my eyes, and my mouth drops open with surprise. I yell out for Callan, hoping I don’t freak her out in the process.
“Callan!”
No answer.
“Callan, get over here right now!”
His office door is suddenly thrown open, and I hear his feet slamming down on the marble. He skids to an abrupt halt in the threshold of the living room, his own eyes widening at the sight before him.
“Holy shit,” he whispers.
“Holy shit!” I laugh.
We both stare at Faith in awe and shock as she stands, wobbly at best, on her two feet. Her chunky little legs are the cutest things I’ve seen as they barely hold her weight. Tears spring to my eyes, and I search blindly for my phone, my heart racing, wanting to document this moment forever.
I manage to snag a five-second video before she crumples to the floor. Her little chin wobbles, and I brace myself for her impending waterworks, though they never come. Especially not when Callan lifts her from the floor, scooping her into his arms. She cradles her little body against his, seeking the warmth of his neck just like she always does.
It warms my heart each time I see them together. It’s been about two months since the blind date turned real date, and things have changed drastically between us. He isn’t so cold and rude at work anymore, and he’s eased back on his assistant tasks quite a bit. We’ve made it a habit to go out on a date every Friday night. Heather, the sitter, watches Faith until we come back home, and he fucks me to sleep. I no longer doubt if he wants me. I don’t doubt him when he says he isn’t interested in other women. He may not have said the words or asked me to be his girlfriend, but at this point, I’m not even sure I need it. Not anymore. All I know is, I’ve fallen in deep with Callan. I fell thirteen years ago but pushed that heartbreak away, stuffing it behind closed doors, but now, that love is back with a vengeance.
I’ve fallen so deeply in love with Callan that this time around, I know I won’t survive the heartbreak. I feel it in my heart.
“She’s never going to learn if you keep picking her up, you know.”
He rolls his eyes. “She’s ahead of the game. Cut her some slack.”
I laugh, picking up my phone again when Callan walks with her to the windows that overlook the city. I can’t hear what he’s saying to her from here, but it seems like he’s responding to her baby babbles. I snap a few pictures, my heart melting at the sight of them together.
“Do you have anything planned for today?”
“Some last-minute sketches I need to work on, but I can do that tonight. It’s nice out. I’m sure Faith wouldn’t mine a stroll through Central Park.”
As if agreeing with Callan’s suggestion, Faith squeals in his arms, making us both laugh. “Guess it’s settled.”
“Cal?”
He glances at me, brows raised, waiting for me to say whatever’s on my mind. With my heart in my throat, I tell him something I should’ve told him years ago.
Something I can’t keep hidden any longer.
“I love you.”
Seconds tick by.
Sweat trickles down my spine as I wait for him to react.
The muscle in Callan’s jaw tightens uncontrollably, so much so, I think my admission has angered him. That is, until he sets Faith down in her playpen and strides toward me, his face an impassive mask. I open my mouth to take it back, but he has other plans. Callan’s hands grip my face, and he yanks me to him. Bending, he takes my lips with his, consuming me with a passion I’ve yet to experience from him. He kisses me like his entire life depends on it.
When we pull back, we’re both a heaving mess. He rests his forehead against mine, his gaze incinerating me.
Though it doesn’t escape my notice he hasn’t said it back.
Even though I’ve been in New York for nearly seven months, I’ve only been to Central Park twice. Once with Rose and Damon as they showed me spots for potential wedding photographs, and one other time on my own, after a particularly bad day at work.
That day, everything that could possibly go wrong at the office went wrong. It felt like at every turn, Callan was yelling at me, glaring at me like my existence was a nuisance to him. He looked at me like he hated me. And that was the first day I looked back at him and let him see just how much I hated him, too.
When I think about when I first made the move out here with Faith, I get a pang in my chest. I had no idea what would happen. I had no job, no permanent place to live. I had no clue what I was in for with Callan, no idea how many vile things he’d spit at me or all the ridiculous errands he’d put me through just to make my life hell. But most of all, I think about how unprepared my heart was for him to storm back into my life. He didn’t walk in gently to break down my walls, no. He stormed through, taking a sledgehammer to every grievance I’ve held on to, every wall I’ve ever built.
Now, when I look at Callan, I think about every hurdle we’ve faced in life. I think about how far we’ve come. Yeah, our relationship isn’t perfect, but it’s moments like these—with my hand in his and his arm wrapped around Faith while he holds her—that make it worth it for me. It makes all the heartbreak, his cold glares, and harsh words worth it. Because when Callan Reed commits to something, he commits. When he wants to be mean, he’ll damn sure do it, but when he wants to be nice and sweet? There’s nothing else quite like it.
We’ve both fallen hard, Faith and me. I thought it would hurt, watching the way she latches on to him, the way they share a bond she doesn’t share with me, but it doesn’t. Because for whatever reason, Faith feels safe when she’s around Callan. She’s most content when he’s got his arms wrapped around her little body, and I smile every time I see it.
“You look good with her,” I murmur, unable to keep my eyes off him. Off either of them.
He looks handsome, the slope of his jaw is dusted with scruff, and I have the sudden itch to reach over and run my fingers over it. I get a pang between my thighs, thinking about last night and all the time he spent between my legs.
I swallow past the sudden thickness in my throat, and I let my gaze travel up and down, taking him in. Callan Reed in a tux or a suit is absolutely divine, but like this? He reminds me of the boy I fell in love with. I can’t decide which look I like better on him.
With a Yankees cap covering his unruly hair, he’s dressed in a pair of jeans and a black Henley that shows off his muscular forearms and biceps. Casual looks good on him. It makes him feel more attainable and not so unapproachable.
He glances down at me, cocky grin in place. “Oh, yeah? How do you figure?”
“Are you kidding? You don’t see half the women here salivating over you? I swear, one with her group of friends was working up the courage to talk to you.”
He rolls his eyes. “Not interested.”
I cock a brow. “Oh, really? So, you haven’t seen anyone walk by who you’d look twice at?”
He has
to be lying. I’ve seen at least ten women walk by who look like models. He looks down at me, a glimmer in his bright eyes. “Only one.”
My chest squeezes, and a light sensation filters through.
I pull on a disbelieving face. “Am I supposed to believe you’re talking about me?”
He glances at me, eyes like hot coals as they rake across my flesh, sweeping across my features.
“You can believe whatever you want. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m not interested in any of them.”
The slow grin that spreads across my face takes him off guard. “Are you getting sweet on me, Mr. Reed?”
He remembers.
Just like I knew he would.
A wide grin spreads across his face. “Shut up.”
We find an empty spot and spend most of the afternoon sitting on a blanket in the grass, people-watching. We work on helping Faith establish some balance, but after a while, it’s obvious she’s over being the center of attention.
“I have to fly out next week, some last-minute site I need to see,” Callan mentions casually as he gently pokes at Faith’s stomach, making her laugh.
A frown pulls taut across my face. I freeze with a grape halfway to my mouth. “What trip? I didn’t see anything on your schedule. You haven’t even had me book your flight itinerary or anything.”
He waves me off. “It’s all last-minute stuff. A friend of a friend asked me to fly out.”
“Well, I guess I can ask your mom if she’ll watch Faith.”
He shakes his head, glancing up at me. “That’s not necessary. I’m flying out alone. It’s just a quick trip.”
My frown deepens. I push upright, wiping my hands. “I’m your assistant, Cal. You didn’t think to tell me this? When do you leave?”
