CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1)

by Kristina Weaver

  What was I doing? Where had he learned to do that? What…damn, I couldn’t even put a full thought together.

  I lifted my skirt around my waist and buried my fingers in his hair, tugging him closer when he touched a place that was particularly good. And then I lay back and closed my eyes, transported to a beautiful, clean place as the pleasure of what he was doing washed over me. I bit my lip hard, trying to keep all sound locked up inside. But it was getting so hard to contain it all.

  And then it was just easier to explode.

  I cried out as that familiar tightness began to grow deep in my belly. An orgasm like none I’d ever had before started to build. But then the lovely pressure on my clit stopped as he dropped a kiss on my inner thigh and regained his feet, his teeth tugging at my hardened nipples where they were pressed up against my bra and the fine material of my blouse.

  “Don’t stop,” I said, my fingers pushing against his skull, trying to get him back down to where the party had been getting off to a great start.

  “Don’t worry, baby, I’m not done with you.”

  He lifted me, his hands on my bare ass all the contact I needed for that growing orgasm to remember where it’d been. And then I felt him against me, felt him working the front of his slacks. I reached down to help, undoing the belt and sliding my hand inside, making him gasp as my fingers wrapped around his shaft. He pulled my hand away, a war going on in his eyes as he looked at me. I saw desire there, need that was so deep it threatened to take my breath away. And I saw more—a sadness I didn’t really understand, and a hint of the emotion he once never had a reason to hide from me.

  It all disappeared as he closed his eyes and sighed, as he pressed himself against me and my body slowly opened, allowing him inside.

  I was lost. I wrapped my legs around him and just floated with the pleasure of it all. I remembered it being good. I remembered the first time, how I’d thought it would hurt, how I’d been prepared for a certain amount of humiliation. But it wasn’t like that with Grant. He was so gentle, so aware of every movement, every moan that slipped from my lips. It had been almost magical. And every time after that, always perfect. This was no different.

  We were fucking in a men’s room in some anonymous bar, but it was like all those precious memories from before that were the only thing that got me through the heartbreak of losing him.

  I wrapped my legs tighter against him and moaned as the first waves of orgasm washed over me.

  “Don’t stop,” I whispered, wrapping my hands in his shirt. “Don’t ever stop.”

  He made a funny noise in the back of his throat, but he didn’t stop. He thrust harder, deeper inside of me, moving almost roughly as one orgasm turned into another. I clung to him, pulling at his shirt so hard that it was really a testament to the manufacturer that it didn’t rip apart in my grip.

  When he finally reached his pinnacle, I was nothing more than jelly in his grip. I kept my eyes closed, not anxious to go back to reality. But wasn’t that inevitable? Wasn’t reality all there really was?

  Just, not right then. I needed more time.

  Chapter 5

  I had a pretty intense headache when I woke the next morning. Not a surprise, really. But it was still with me as I sat behind my desk, trying to weed through the e-mails in my inbox, most of which were from suppliers wondering when they were going to get paid and clients who wanted to know how many more delays they’d have to expect.

  My assistant, Angela, walked into the room and set a handful of pink slips on the edge of my desk. Phone calls that had come in in just the twenty minutes we’d been open for business.

  I glanced through them, a part of me hoping one would have Grant’s name and number on it. He’d wanted to talk last night as I straightened my skirt and made a beeline for the door. I hadn’t wanted to talk. I didn’t want to face the reality of what I’d done, or discuss a heartbreak that was seven years old. What was the point in bringing up the past? There was nothing we could do to change it. I just…it would probably be better if he just went back to wherever it was he disappeared to all those years ago.

  I was glad there was no slip of paper with his name and number on it.

  Really. I was.

  “So, tonight,” Angela said slowly.

  I looked up. “Tonight?”

  “Yeah. Remember? You agreed to go on a double date with Kevin and me?”

  I turned my attention back to my computer so she wouldn’t see the expression on my face. Double date. Just what I needed right now.

  “He’s asked his brother to come along. If he’s anything like Kevin, you’ll love him!”

  “Where are we doing this again?”

  “Firefly. It’s downtown, off Sherman.”

  I glanced at her, at the excitement on her face, and realized it was the least I could do. If she knew what was about to happen…it was the least I could do.

  “Seven?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay,” I said, forcing a bright smile. “I’ll see you then.”

  She looked thrilled. And I felt like a heel.

  Angela became my personal assistant the day I first walked into this office, two weeks after graduating from Yale. She was patient and kind and everything a good personal assistant should be. We were basically the same age, and we spent much time together going over contracts, architecture sketches, and the huge amount of paperwork that went with running this business. We shared meals and gossip and did all the things I hadn’t done with another female before, because I had never been close to another woman, neither in nor out of the office. I liked to think of her as my friend. It only seemed fair to warn her that I’d be walking away from this sinking ship very soon. Likely by the end of the week. But if I did, she might let the information slip—by accident, I’m sure—and it could compromise the sale. If I were pressed, I would say she was the first person in my life I’d trust. But I couldn’t trust her with this.

  “Your day is pretty clear,” she said. “Are you going out to the project sites?”

  I nodded. “I probably won’t be in the office most of the day.”

  “Okay.” She paused at the door and smiled back at me. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  I finished going over e-mails and phone calls, returning a few, before I wandered over to the small bathroom at the back of my office and grabbed the jeans I kept there for trips to the construction sites. We have foremen who often came to us with reports from the sites, but I liked to go out there. I liked to see firsthand what was going on. And I liked to witness the progress firsthand.

  I slid my jeans on and slipped out of the dress I’d been wearing. My office door opened as I pulled a light T-shirt over my head.

  “Going to the sites?”

  “In a few minutes.”

  “Probably the last time you’ll have to do it.”

  I crossed the room again, my boots in hand. “What does that mean?”

  My dad was lounging in one of the straight-back chairs I kept situated to the side of my desk, his eyes weary as he watched me.

  “We have three solid offers.”

  “Three?”

  “That’s pretty good considering we’re less than a week from needing to declare bankruptcy.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  My dad shrugged. I noticed for the first time that his eyes had dark, heavy circles under them. And he seemed a little thinner than he usually was. His suit jacket seemed to hang on him.

  This whole thing was hard on him. I knew it, in my heart. But seeing the evidence made me feel somewhat bad for the negative thoughts I’d been having about him since the company began having trouble.

  “I’m going to hear them all out and choose the best one.”

  “Any clue which that might be right now?”

  “No.” He sat up, leaning forward as he stared at his hands. “But this has to happen this week, Addie. I’m sorry.”

  “I know.”

  “With the money these compa
nies are offering, we could start over. We could start a new company.”

  I walked around the desk and lay a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll talk about it when all this is said and done, okay?”

  “This really isn’t the way I had planned on going out,” he said.

  “I know.” I bent and kissed the top of his head. “It’ll be okay, Daddy.”

  He slid his arm around my thighs and pulled me close for a second in an awkward hug.

  “You’re a good kid, Addie. You deserve so much more than this.”

  I ran my hand over his head. “It’ll be okay,” I repeated, because, really, it was the only thing I knew to say.

  Chapter 6

  “Hey, Addison,” one of the construction workers said as he helped me down from the cab of my truck. “Didn’t expect to see you until later in the week.”

  “I wanted to see how we’re progressing.”

  He stepped back, my hand lost in his much larger one. He was watching me with a little weariness in his watery green eyes. His name was Billy. He was in his late fifties, but he could work circles around any of the twenty-year-olds who often populated these sites with him. And those twenty-year-olds learned a lot from him, when they were smart enough to shut up and listen.

  He'd taught Grant all he knew about drywall.

  “Slowly,” he said. “The lumberyard refused to deliver that load of two-by-fours yesterday.”

  “I know. I called them and got it worked out.”

  “They say the company’s been slow about paying their bill for months.”

  “It’s nothing for you to worry about, Billy.”

  But he was worried. I could see it in the way he studied me with his permanent squint. Forty years out in the Texas sun had left its mark on Billy’s face—that squint being the least of it. Last year he had a mole removed from his jaw that turned out to be cancerous. The doctor told him to quit his job and take something inside. He refused. Construction was all he knew and he was loyal. He wasn’t about to leave us high and dry.

  If he only knew.

  He walked with me to the foundation of an apartment building that had just been dug two weeks ago. Already they’d set the plumbing and begun to frame the structure. It was one of our most massive projects. It was an apartment building that would be forty stories when it was completed. That was fairly massive for this part of the country where apartment buildings were three stories high and office buildings were usually less than twenty.

  Too bad I wouldn’t be here to see it finished.

  “How’s the new foreman doing?”

  Billy shrugged. “He’s a foreman.”

  I smiled. “Yes, I suppose he is.”

  “We’re on schedule. The kid running the water pump is keeping up. Those are the only things I ask when starting a new project.”

  I touched his arm lightly. “I’m glad, then.”

  I spoke to the foreman for a few minutes and watched the men go about their business for a while. They didn’t like when I just stood there and watched them work, but they couldn’t say anything. The last man to say something to me about it found himself on the unemployment line that afternoon. I’d do just about anything for good employees, but I didn’t suffer fools lightly.

  I was about to climb back into my truck, wondering if I would keep it when I no longer needed it. Maybe I’d sell it and get myself a sports car. Maybe I’d sell everything and leave the state. I’d heard Florida’s pretty nice year-round. Or Montana. I’ve always liked the idea of living somewhere where it snows once in a while.

  “Addison!”

  I turned and watched as Billy ran toward me.

  “I forgot to ask earlier,” he said, not even slightly winded. “Did Grant ever catch up to you?”

  The sound of Grant’s name on his lips was such a surprise that I had to grip the open door of my truck. It shouldn’t have been, but it was.

  “Grant?”

  “Yeah. He came by here a couple of days ago, asking about you.”

  “Did he?”

  “Dressed in a suit and everything. Said he’d had some luck in California.”

  I nodded, feeling like I should say something, but at a loss.

  “He said he’d come back to see if he could maybe fix a few mistakes he made when he was living here before. Told me how sorry he was to leave without giving any notice or whatever. Said he knew I’d expected more from him than that.”

  “Big of him, coming back after all these years.”

  Billy’s squint softened a little as he studied my face. “He was a good kid, Addison. And he’s become a good man. Offered to help me out with some of my medical bills. I guess he’d heard about all that from someone.”

  “Did you take the money?”

  “No,” Billy said, a soft, ironic smile touching his lips. “You know me. I don’t like taking something I didn’t work for.”

  I knew that. He’d refused the money I’d offered him, too. So I called the insurance company we used for employee medical, asked them what I could do. But medical records are confidential. They wouldn’t take my money, either.

  “Take the money, Billy,” I said, touching his hand lightly. “Don’t let your pride cause your family to go without.”

  “I could say the same to you.”

  “Me? I don’t need money.”

  “No. But I saw the look on your face when I said his name. You still love him.”

  I shook my head, but I knew he could see right through me. I’d known Billy since I was a small child, following my dad around like a puppy on a leash. He’d seen me with Grant, and then wrapped up in heartbreak. He knew.

  “Give him a chance, kid. Let him explain what happened all that time ago.”

  “And what if his excuse isn’t good enough?”

  “What if it is?”

  I leaned over and kissed Billy’s cheek.

  “I’ll see you.”

  ***

  I drove to our three other active projects. We normally had upwards of ten projects going on, each at a different stage of development. But now we only had four in active production and two on the drawing table in the architect’s office. In fact, my dad fired three of our staff architects last month because we simply didn’t have enough work for them.

  We were once a strong company—the one everyone went to to build their dream office, their perfect apartment building. We even delved into the occasional home. But times change. Other companies offered more modern services. Environmentally friendly building materials. Internet and cable access built into the walls of offices and apartments. Computer-drawn architectural plans. Cheaper, more economical solutions. My dad refused to move with the times. He was one of those men who believed the old way is the only way. No matter how often we argued, he would never budge. And now, here we were.

  His company, his decisions, I always told myself. And when I drove by some of the buildings he put up thirty and forty years ago, I couldn’t argue with him.

  Some were a work of art.

  I pulled my truck to the curb outside of the apartment building that was the first for me. It was nothing but an idea on paper when I went to work for my dad the spring before college. In a matter of weeks it became a foundation and then a bare-bones structure. By early June it was a ten-story structure with walls going up and plumbing going in.

  This was the luxury apartment building Grant was working on when we met.

  I often stood out here, leaning against the side of my truck and looking up at the building. Sometimes I thought of how it represented what we did right at Berryman Construction. Sometimes I thought it represented all the hard work and the long nights and the things my dad sacrificed in order to keep the business going all those years. And sometimes I thought it represented my relationship with my dad. How strong it was, but how there were a few vulnerabilities that should have been found and fixed long ago.

  But, mostly, I looked at this building and thought about the relationship that was born here and
should have blossomed like the surrounding neighborhood after this building went up.

  It felt like everything in my life was crumbling at the foundation. I’d had all these dreams when I was young, but most of them centered on Berryman Construction. Even when I was with Grant and he talked about running away to California, I thought we would eventually come back and run the company together. The company was all I knew. It was all I wanted. It may seem odd, a girl wanting to inherit the family construction company, but not to me. It was my dad’s—the legacy he’d built up from nothing more than a tool belt and a little charm. It was the life I was supposed to live.

  Now I felt like a ship that had suddenly come unmoored, drifting aimlessly out in the harbor. I needed my captain to come and save me from floating with the tide. I needed to have a purpose, needed to know where I was going. I needed this not to be happening.

  “It turned out beautifully. Just as you’d always known it would.”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin as Grant’s voice filled my mind. No warning.

  “Have you seen the inside since it was completed?”

  I closed my eyes and counted to five. But it didn’t help. The moment my eyes shifted and moved over his familiar face, my heart skipped a beat and my knees threated to turn to Jell-O.

  “Are you following me around?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “First the bar…no, first one our construction sites. Billy says you went to see him.”

  “He’s a friend.”

  “Then the bar. And now here.”

  “I live here.”

  “You do?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised, princess,” he said, using the nickname he only used when he was trying to piss me off. “I bought the penthouse apartment.”