by Raine Miller
I snatched it out of his hand and ripped it open. “Give me your cock.” I was all business in my request. Which was: give it to me now, Caleb.
He got the message. Thank. God.
Caleb had his zipper open and his cock presented to me in under two seconds. I could feel him watching me as I sheathed the part of him that would be deep inside me in another moment and gathered he was enjoying the show. I was all about efficiency, hurrying to finish my task. His hands were up my dress while I toiled with the condom, already tugging down my knickers and working them out over one boot, lest we waste time. I didn’t want to know why he was so skilled at the mechanics of sex, just grateful for his forward thinking.
I was lifted a second time, my back stationed flat to the wall, my legs split wide by his hips. I felt his hard shaft at my belly and nearly sobbed at the awareness of him so close. He was so big, consuming, and perfectly lovely. “Oh, God,” I groaned as he positioned the tip at my entrance and impaled me deep.
“Fuck, it’s good. You feel—” He lost the rest of his words as he dropped his mouth to mine and kissed me with the same zealous abandon he was giving me down below with his thrusting cock. It went on and on, both of us frantic and wild. Lost in the movements—seeking the blissful end of release. He pulled his mouth away and stared into my eyes as we fucked. It’s never been like this. It was beautiful and savage—it was filthy and precious. I willed my climax to take me because it all became too much, too close, too wonderful to process. “I want you to come all over my cock, baby. Go ahead.” His fingers found their way to my clit again and started circling. “Say my name, Brooke,” he said, his neck muscles straining from holding me up with only one arm.
I let go and felt myself fall over the edge into paradise . . . on the whisper of his name. “Caaleeeeb.” A whisper was all I could manage, because he wasn’t finished. He was watching me, and I was glad for it because I knew the look of ecstasy on my face had been formed by him. It was his handiwork.
I enjoyed watching the expression of pure pleasure appear when he came about a minute later.
He kissed me for a long time, our bodies merged up against the wall until it was time to surface back into reality.
Reality was an annoying bastard sometimes.
“BROOKE can cook,” he said with his signature smirk, totally sweet and pleased with his little rhyming verse. He also seemed pleased with the French bread pizza I’d thrown together as we sat across from one another, the pretty flowers he’d brought me perking up in a vase of water between us.
“Yes, well it becomes a necessary skill when you live alone.”
“I live alone and I can’t cook,” he said.
“Yes, but you have the luxury of employing someone to cook for you, or do you eat out all the time?”
“I eat out about half of the time and usually because I’m traveling. When I’m not traveling, I like to stay at home as much as possible, which is probably the case with most people who have to travel a lot for work. You crave what you don’t have. Ann, my housekeeper slash cook, makes meals for me and freezes them with instructions, or if I tell her in advance, she’ll have something ready for me when I get home. Isaac is her husband, and they live in the same building on the floor below mine.”
The relationship was clear in my mind between Caleb and his staff. I saw it when he spoke to Nan. Respect. He didn’t see himself above Ann and Isaac, and seemed to appreciate their involvement in his world. I couldn’t help wonder if some of that had come from having Nan in his life. She was a strong woman, and although she would have known her place, she would have had a firm but loving hand with Caleb and his siblings. Of that I was certain. But I was curious now that I had access to this delectable man.
“What is your family like?”
He obliged me and seemed not to mind. I could tell Caleb loved his family with every word he spoke.
“My father was JW, John William, and he died of stomach cancer last year after a long battle.” I could see the strain in his expression as he held back his grief. I understood that all too well. “I took over his business interests when he got sick. My mother is Madelaine, formerly Lafarge, an old Boston family, before she married my dad. I’m the oldest, and I have two brothers and two sisters. My brothers are twenty months younger than me and identical twins: Wyatt and Lucas. Lucas is the one who lives here on the island year-round. He’s a game designer and created iInVidiosa, if that name rings a bell for you. He knew exactly who you were when I asked him who the girl named Brooke, living on the island with her grandmother, with an English accent, was.” He winked at me.
“Why does that not surprise me a bit? Your stalking tendencies at work.”
“His twin, Wyatt, lives in New York City and keeps pretty quiet about his activities. I think he doesn’t want our mom to know how he makes his money.”
“How does he make his money?” I asked.
“I suspect it might be in the video entertainment sector. Read that as soft porn, or the stuff they show in hotels. I can safely say he just owns the distribution companies, and is not involved in the production of films.” He drew one hand through his hair as if he was fidgeting. “I think. I’m not sure I really want to know.”
I laughed and agreed with him. “And your sisters?”
“Willow and Winter are also twins, but not identical. They don’t even look that much alike to me. Willow is blonde, but Winter’s hair is dark like the rest of us. They have the same eyes, though. Willow is a writer and she’s built up quite a following for her books. She’s even made the New York Times Best Seller list for her young-adult fantasy series, which is quite an achievement for someone at only twenty-four years old. She lives in Providence with her fiancé, Roger, who is a professor of history at Brown University.”
“W. R. Blackstone is her? I know the books, and I’ve read them all. She wrote The Empty Handed series. That’s so awesome, Caleb, you have a famous author in your family. I’d love to have her sign a book for me sometime.”
He smiled widely and I could tell he was very proud of her. As he should be. “I’ll tell her you’re a fan, and I’m sure she’ll send you some books. She interacts with her readers all the time.”
“I would be very honored.”
He took a sip of the wine I’d opened to go with my homemade pizza and seemed happy to be here with me. He should be happy, considering he’d been fucked and fed—and in that order. God, I was still tingly from the orgasm and wondered if he was thinking about it, too. He was so caring with me. I still couldn’t quite fathom how or why he kept pursuing me, but I realized now, it was good for me to do this with him. I’d needed some sexual healing, and Caleb was a very fine healer. I’d also needed emotional healing. Still . . .
After another smoldering look at me across the table, he continued, “Winter is finishing up her master’s in social work at Boston University, and I probably see her the most because she has an apartment in the same building as my penthouse. I’m sure the two of you will meet soon since you’ll be going over there for the renovation . . . and I hope just for the purposes of seeing me.”
Awww, the charm factor was back. “Of course I’d like to visit you there again, Caleb, and actually, I remember your sisters—Winter in particular.”
“You’ve met them before?” He seemed surprised, but interested.
“Yes. It was shortly after I’d come here to live with Nan. Your sisters were turning sixteen, and there was a big birthday party for them at Blackwater to which I was invited. I met your father that day as well, but I don’t remember if I met your mother or not. I wasn’t very socially inclined then—I’d just lost my parents and been plunked down into a foreign world, or at least it felt like it to me, so that time period is sort of a blur. But I do recall the birthday party. It was a hot summer day, and everyone was in the pool cooling off. I didn’t go in, though. I preferred to watch the kids playing chicken fight in the pool—everything felt so very different here in America, and I was ta
king it all in at first. I wasn’t ready to make friends or play games. But Winter came over to sit by me and asked about living in England. We talked about the Jonas Brothers, who were wildly popular in the UK at the time, and other teenage girl stuff, but mostly she took the time to make me feel welcome at the party.”
His expression changed and lost the animation he’d shown earlier. “I didn’t make it to their birthday party. I remember I had to be in Dallas for an IPO. I tried to get back home, but the planes were grounded due to severe weather and nobody made it out.”
“It really bothered you to miss their birthday, didn’t it?”
“Yeah. I’ve missed out on too much, though, and it can’t be undone. I’ve learned that the hard way, and it pretty much sucks.” He looked me in the eyes. “But I don’t need to tell you that, Brooke, as I’m sure you’ve learned through your loss.”
And there it was again. The shit tears exploding at the most random of times. If this wonderful man didn’t start heading for the hills to get away from me, I’d never understand why. I lowered my head and took in gulps of air between the sobs.
Caleb was quiet. Patient . . .
He didn’t ask if I was okay this time. He did not offer a consoling comment. He just reached his hands across the table and picked up both of mine. His thumbs rubbed circles over my palms in the most gentle of ways . . . and the tightness in my throat passed after a minute.
“—I—I can tell you l-love your family v-very much, Caleb,” I managed to stammer eventually.
“I do love them.”
I slowly breathed in and out to help settle my emotions back down where they belonged, when he said more to me.
“Brooke, I know this is too soon, but I also know I don’t care that it’s too soon, because it’s already happening for me, and it can’t be undone any more than missing my sisters’ sixteenth birthday.”
My eyes lifted to find his and there they were—beautiful, blue ringed with gold piercing into my heart. “What are y-you s-saying?”
“That it’s too late to change back to the time before I met you, Brooke, because I know what you make me feel, and it’s different.”
“And what is it I’m making you feel?” My heart was surely going to split apart any second and then I wouldn’t have to worry about finishing this conversation with him. It could just be over.
“Love.” It was softly spoken, but I heard him clearly.
Love.
Love?
No. He can’t.
Not love.
“No, you can’t love me, Caleb. You just can’t.”
Caleb
Too late for that, beautiful.
An out-of-body experience. Yeah, that’s what was happening to me right now in Brooke’s cottage on the island above the Fairchild Light. I was out of my motherfucking body and floating somewhere around the ceiling, staring down and wondering who the fuckhead was, sitting across from her, looking like he couldn’t remember his own name.
To be honest she didn’t look much better. She was as lovely as always, but I’d shocked the hell out of her, without a doubt.
I’d shocked the hell out of myself. The minute the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d made a mistake and said too goddamn much. I’d scared her. I was supposed to be going slow. I fucked up. Again. Why are you such a dipshit moron? Why?!
She pulled her hands away from mine and covered her mouth. She just stared across the table at me. Shocked. And beautifully perfect, even with her hair kind of messy from the desperate-but-oh-so-hot wall fuck we’d shared. But her eyes—they were truly stunning right now as she blinked like she was trying to hold back tears again. The eyes still had the look of a satisfied woman who’d been ridden hard and loved every minute of it, though.
And even after the crazed wall sex, Brooke had gone further by making dinner with her precious hands, putting it on a plate, and serving me at the table. What in the actual fuck? I’d been the one shocked then, because I’d had no experiences like it before. No woman had ever done that for me.
Brooke had such a generous soul, and she’d done it all with happiness in her heart just because she’d wanted to.
I wished I’d been inside her when I’d said it.
“Don’t be scared of what I just said, okay? Just file it away somewhere and we can just keep doing . . . this.” I tugged on her hands and pulled them back into mine. “Nothing has to change.”
“Oh, Caleb . . . I—I don’t think I can—I—I’m not ready,” she said on a whisper, her eyes filling.
“It’s okay, baby. I know you aren’t ready, and I shouldn’t have thrown that at you like I just did. I apologize. I’m not expecting you to feel the same way. I do have a small bit of intelligence, and from what you’ve shared about your past, I realize it’s too soon for you. I get it. You don’t have to say anything right now. Just know that I spoke the truth. Okay? Can you—can you do that for me?”
“You know—you’ve seen—Caleb, I am a complete mess emotionally. You don’t even know me . . . how can it be the truth?”
“But what I just said—it wasn’t about you, Brooke. It was about me. It’s my truth, not yours. What I am feeling. And trust me, after thirty-one and a half years of knowing what love doesn’t feel like, I think I’m a goddamn expert at recognizing when the real thing comes along to rip right into my heart.”
She swallowed, making the skin at her throat flutter. “I’ve ripped right into your heart?”
“Uh-huh. Brutally. Savagely.”
“But I didn’t mean to,” she said sadly.
“I know, baby. That was just fate doing its thing. Brooke, it’s not about me expecting you to feel the same way. It’s just the reality of you . . . for me. I knew it the night you first spoke to me. I didn’t even know your name, but I’d already spotted you walking into your offices and knew of you. You are my fate personified. Your nan and my uncle are getting married, connecting you and me through their marriage whether we want it or not. That’s fate at work—can’t you see that? We were going to come together eventually, and I think my path to finding you was set in motion a long time ago.”
“Fate . . . for me, has always been something bad, Caleb. I’m scared of fate. Fate terrifies me.”
“Why, beautiful?”
“Because what we love can be snatched away in the blink of an eye. I can’t have any more of that kind of fate, because if I do it will be the end of me.”
“I know your heart has been horribly wounded, and you’re afraid to be vulnerable again. I don’t want to hurt you, Brooke. I just wanted you to know my feelings, and I’ve realized just now, that even if you never feel the same way about me, it still won’t change anything. I will feel the same about you as I do right now.”
“Caleb, I thought you just wanted to enjoy each other the way we have been . . . the sex . . . it’s very wonderful. You are the most wonderful and lovely man. I have to pinch myself when I’m with you, because I think you’re too good to be true . . . and I can’t understand why you even want me. There’s more you don’t know about me, Caleb. I am not from your world and will never be accepted in it.”
“I don’t care, and I would happily come and be in your world with you, if that’s what it takes.”
“You cannot mean that.” She was doing her best to push me away, but I sensed there was still some hope for me. I’d laid it out on the table for her, and hopefully she’d take it at face value when she was ready.
“Oh, I mean it, and I have the ability to make it happen. Watch me.”
“I don’t care for this arguing,” she said stubbornly.
“I don’t care to be told I cannot own my feelings.” I finally snapped and asked the question. “Do you want me to go? I can stay with my brother tonight and get back to Boston in the morning.” It would hurt like a bitch, but I would do it if she asked me to.
She eyeballed me.
I gave it right back to her.
I waited for her to say “Give me five minutes a
nd I’ll drive you to your brother’s house myself,” in the Jeep Cherokee that probably had a good five years on me.
She didn’t, though. Instead she rose from her chair and came around the table to my side. She held out her hand to me.
I took it. How could I not? She was handing me a lifeline, and I’d fucking hold on to it.
“I don’t want you to go, Caleb. I’d like you to stay and hear the rest of my story. I think you should know everything about me, and then you can evaluate if your feelings are still the same.” She tugged me up from my chair. “You’re right. It’s not fair of me to tell you what you can feel for another person. I am sorry if I hurt you when I said you couldn’t possibly feel more for me. I don’t want to hurt you, Caleb. Never that.”
I let her lead me up the stairs to her bedroom where I’d stowed my bag earlier when she gave me the grand tour of her cottage.
She peeled off her shirt first. Then her leggings. The bra came off next and my dick started throbbing. I was fully erect when the panties were dropped to the floor. I watched her reveal herself to me physically and wished she could do the same on an emotional level. Why is it we always crave what we don’t have?
She came to me and I let her help me take off my clothes, piece by piece, until I was as naked as her.
“Do you know how easy it would be for me to fall in love with you, Caleb?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“It would take no effort at all, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea—for me, or for you.”
So that door wasn’t completely closed. Good to know. “What do you want from me, Brooke?”
She smiled. “I want you to make love to me in my bed, and then I’ll tell you the rest of my story. After that you can decide if you still want me.”
Turnabout is fair play, baby. “I agree, but only if we switch it around. You tell me first, and then we make love. And for the record, I’ve already decided.”
