“Fucking hell!” Callum calls out.
I don’t like to brag, but I’m really good at giving head.
I bob up and down, drowning in each moan and grunt that Callum makes. I suck him deep, hard, and use my tongue along the way. His hands thread in my hair, and I let him set the pace he likes.
“That’s it, love. Yes.” He grunts, completely lost. “Fuck. Your mouth feels so good. Take it deep,” Callum commands.
I do exactly as he wants. I take him to the back of my throat, and water fills my eyes, but I don’t stop.
“I can’t hold back,” he says.
The warning is appreciated, but my goal isn’t to pop off. I push his hand off my head, and start to move faster.
“God, Nicole!” He yells out before losing it.
Once he’s finished, he pulls me up. “Hi,” I say coyly. “I got you to say something to God.”
He doesn’t grin or play coy. Callum looks ravenous, and I have a feeling I’m about to get eaten.
Sure enough, he crashes his mouth to mine, pushing me down onto the bed. His hands cup my breasts and he squeezes them, pinching my nipples. Then he pushes my legs up, hooking them over his arms. His cock slides against me, seeking entrance, and all I want is him inside me.
I don’t want or need anything other than him to fill me.
“I need you,” I pant.
“You’re damn right you do,” he says while brushing against my clit again with his cock. “But do you want me?”
I moan. “Yes.”
“I need to get the condom,” he says.
“No. Now.”
I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I want him too much to care. “I’m clean, on the pill. You?”
“Clean.”
“Okay. Now. Get the fuck inside me. I need you.”
“Enough to stop with your warnings of walking away?”
Is he seriously negotiating right now? “Callum, give me your dick.”
He chuckles and then kisses me, still not doing what I said. “Tell me you’re not going to walk away.”
“Your. Dick. Inside me. Now.”
“Say it.”
His hand slips between us, and he starts to rub circles. “Look how much you want me.” He smirks.
“Yeah, don’t make me wait.”
“Tell me you won’t walk away.”
Jesus Christ. This is torture. “I can’t,” I say breathlessly. I’m on fire. I need him to ease the pain from being burned.
“Then I won’t sign the contract.”
“Oh my God!” I moan when he takes my clit between his thumb and index finger. “You’re killing me!”
“No, love, I’m securing what I want.”
“And what’s that?”
His eyes lock on mine. “You.”
Damn it. I want to fight him, but I’m not strong enough. I care about him, crave him, want to be around him all the time. I think about what he’s wearing, if he’s lonely, and I wake up each night wishing he was with me. No matter how fast and ridiculous it sounds—it’s true. I’m a stupid girl, but I’m falling for him.
If I haven’t already fallen.
While I wrestle with this in my mind, his gaze stays locked on my eyes.
His hand moves back up to my face, pushing the hair back in a tender motion. “Say yes, Nicole. Say you’ll be mine.”
I open my mouth to refuse, but I won’t lie to him or myself. “I vowed I’d never do this,” I say with my heart on my sleeve. “It wasn’t until I met you that I wanted to break it. Don’t shatter my heart, Callum.”
With that, he enters me, kissing my lips. “I won’t. I promise.”
I really hope not because, if he does, I won’t ever come back from it.
Chapter Eighteen
Nicole
I print the tickets off for our first official date. He asked me to pick something I wanted to do during the day, and then he would take care of dinner. Callum didn’t really ever get to enjoy anything around here, so I picked the most American thing I could think of . . . a baseball game.
Thanks to one of the guys who still has the hots for me, I was able to get us seats behind home plate against the Yankees.
Right as the printer spits out the last piece of paper, Callum knocks on the door.
“You look adorable,” he says when he gets a glimpse of me.
Yes, yes I do. I did everything to make sure I was cute. I’m wearing a pair of jean shorts, a white top, with my favorite pinstripe jersey over it, and a ballcap. I look freaking sexy.
I stand here, allowing him to peruse the goodies—meaning me, and then take him in.
He’s dressed in cargo shorts, a gray T-shirt that clings to every muscle on his delectable chest, and a baseball hat—though, his is for the wrong team. “You looked perfect other than that,” I say, pointing to his hat.
“Aren’t they the home team?”
“Yes, but they’re not the Yankees.”
“I wasn’t aware we had predetermined teams.”
“We do.”
Callum laughs. “Well, I like this cap, and I’m sort of from Florida, so I pick the home team.”
“I want to like you, but I feel like we’re walking into a fight here. I’m really passionate about baseball, but when it comes to the Yankees . . . I’m downright scary.”
“You’ll have to deal, love.”
I’m already regretting this. “I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I’m scary. I was ejected from the last game, and I am hoping they don’t have my photo up on a board somewhere so I can get in. Some asshole started taunting my beloved number two, and I told him to knock it off. He laughed, told me to sit my sweet little ass down, and proceeded to shout at my man. So, I did what any self-respecting Yanks fan would do . . . I threw my beer at him and then kicked his ass.”
Callum’s eyes widen. “I’m sorry, you what?”
“I threw my drink at him, leaped over the chair, and slapped his hat down over his eyes, and then I took his beer and dumped it on him for good measure. I got hauled out of the stadium. Big baby was crying about getting his ass kicked by a girl.”
But that’s what happens when you cross me. The Yankees are the only thing my dad gave a shit about, and he took me to every game when they were in the state of Florida. We never missed one. I was at the great players’ final games in New York. I’m a diehard. I don’t play.
“I’m not sure whether I should be scared or impressed.”
“I get that often, but I’m not kidding, Cal. I won’t hesitate to dump beer on you if you cheer gleefully if my Bronx boys don’t come out swinging.”
He laughs, pulls me into his arms, and kisses my nose. “Just when I think I can’t find you any more endearing.”
My nerves spike a bit since I know exactly how bad I tend to get. There is absolutely nothing endearing about me when I’m watching my team. “Seriously, I think you should forego the hat with the team’s logo that is not mine.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, but I am.”
“I’m not taking it off,” Callum says with a grin.
“Wanna bet?”
“Sure.”
Shit. That wasn’t what I meant. “No, I mean that I bet you will.”
He nods. “I know what you mean, and I’m not taking it off. We’ll make a wager. If your team wins, then you have to go on another date with me.”
Again with the coercion. “Seriously, what is it with you and trying to secure your dates?”
“I like to know we have plans. Plans keep me relevant.”
I shake my head. He’s more relevant than I ever planned on him being, but I don’t tell him that. “The only thing that will keep you in my good graces is if you become a Yankees fan.”
His arms drop. “Well, then, I guess I’ll have to find another way to win you over.”
I glare at him. “We’ll see.”
“You have to eat a hot dog!” I tell him as we stand in line at the concession sta
nd.
“I will not.”
“What can you possibly have against hot dogs?”
The game has been amazing. Callum watched everything with wonder. I can’t believe that, with all the time he spent here, his father never took him to a game or anything. This was the best part of my childhood.
“They’re disgusting.”
“They’re delicious!”
He orders a burger, and I get two hot dogs because I freaking love eating authentic stadium food. “It’s all about the experience, Cal.” I nudge him.
“Fine,” he tells the girl at the counter, “I’ll take a bloody hot dog as well since she’s demanding it be done.”
The girl smiles at me and then lingers on him a bit too long. I watch her with pursed lips, waiting for her gaze to meet mine so I can tell her in girl talk to back the fuck off. She finally looks over and at least has the decency to look contrite.
I know he’s hot—even if he is really fucking dressed down—but have some manners.
“What was that look for?” Callum asks.
Great. He caught me. Oh, well. “I was telling her to stop looking at you.”
“Why is that?”
“Because we’re on a date,” I say unapologetically.
“We are.”
“Do you want guys staring at me?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don’t care because I know that I can do this.” Callum leans in, his hand grips the side of my face, his fingers tangling in my hair, and he crushes his lips to mine. It’s a powerful, sexy, and toe-curling kiss that I don’t want to stop.
His eyes are full of passion as he looks down at me. “I do like it when you do that.”
“They can look, but I’m the only one who can touch.”
I smirk up at him. “For now.”
“Is that so?”
“I’m still on the fence about you,” I inform him.
The truth is, I’ve hurdled over the fence and am running the bases with him. Other than his shitty taste in baseball teams, he’s sort of amazing.
“And what is keeping you on the fence?”
I shrug. “There are a few things I’m still waiting to decide.”
Callum leans in so his lips brush my ear. “Perhaps tonight, after I’ve fed you, I’ll change your mind . . .”
I step back, looking up into his eyes. “Perhaps you will.”
He raises his brows, and I don’t need him to say a word to hear what he’s saying.
I’m going to cut the fucking fence down.
I can’t wait to see what that looks like.
Don’t play games that you can’t win, Nicole.
I never do.
The girl returns with the food, breaking our silent exchange.
We take everything back down to our seats, and I practically inhale the first hot dog.
“Are you going to chew?”
“I like to deep throat it,” I say, which earns me a curious look from the guy sitting on the other side of Callum, and then take another bite. “I’m preparing for tonight, Big Guy.”
The woman behind me snorts, and I grin. I love making people uncomfortable. I’ll never understand why.
Callum bursts out laughing. “Why don’t we just leave now?”
Leave early? Hell no. You never know what can happen in the bottom of the ninth. There have been rallies and strange things happen. I stay until the end, clap, tell them good job if they win or lose, and then go on my merry way.
“I have another dog I need to eat, and we need to stay until the end. It’s customary to let the boys know we think they did a good job.”
“I hope I never understand your mind, it’s a wondrous place.”
I smile at him. “It really is. I’m kind of amazing.”
“Yes, love, you sure are.”
And again, Callum manages to make me go all gooey inside. I really hope he knocks that shit off.
“So tell me, how do you feel about me now?”
He looks at me, clearly confused as to what I’m asking. But we’ve spent enough time together now that I’m curious if he still believes I’m as great now that I’m not a new and shiny toy.
“Feel about you?”
“Yes, do you feel the same or different? I told you I’d ask about your time machine.”
Recognition of the conversation we had at the pizza place dawns on him. His hand lifts, brushing against my cheek. “I’m pretty sure you’ve stolen my heart, Nicole. I’m also sure I don’t want it back.”
My heart races and my throat goes dry as his eyes bore into me. Damn it. I didn’t want to feel this way. I half expected that he’d be bored with me. A small part of me wanted that so I could push my own feelings, that are growing far bigger than I ever wanted, down so I could walk away.
I drop my head, needing to break away from the intensity of his stare. “Let’s watch my Yanks kick your ass, okay?”
“Yes, lets. After all, if your team wins . . . I’ve got another date coming.” Callum’s grin is victorious.
My mouth opens. “You sneaky bastard!”
He leans over and kisses my neck. “I told you, I don’t ever play a game I don’t intend to win.”
We’ll just see about that.
Chapter Nineteen
Callum
I have to get back to London.
Not just because my brother is a fucking moron, but also because I need to check on my mum. Contrary to whatever lies she tells herself, she’s absolutely getting older. My aunt has been helping out since Milo is “working from the beach,” which the bastard has actually been doing, but the point is he needs to be in the office, not out drinking a pint.
I pick up the phone and call the woman who has been my rock.
“Callum.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “When are you coming home?”
“I’m not sure, Mum. I have a lot still left to be done.”
As true as that is, it is not the entire reason. I’m just smart enough to know saying there’s an American love interest will send Mother over the edge. My father was the dark spot on her otherwise bright life.
“Your father was a very organized man, I can’t imagine there’s much to go through.”
“Not when it came to his death,” I disagree.
He has directions for everything, but none of it is the way I want to handle things.
“Well, I think you should return to London.”
“I’m sure you do. Where is your youngest son?”
She sighs. “Milo is around.”
No one loves that man more than my mother. She makes excuses for him, gives him whatever he wants, and has created a damn monster.
“Sure he is, Mum. We both know he took off.”
“Give him a break, Callum,” she chides.
“Because he doesn’t get enough of those?”
I lay my suit out for the meeting I have in a few hours. I’m going to meet Nicole and my lawyers to actually sign the contract. Thankfully, I was able to drag my feet long enough to get her to agree to my terms—an exploration of the relationship we’re forming.
“Be nice, Cal. You know losing your father, the one who loved and raised you?” She can’t help herself. Any chance, even with him dead, she has to remind me. “It wasn’t something Milo ever recovered from. Plus, he thinks you’ve had it so easy.”
Here we go again. I’ve heard this story a million times, and all I hear is my brother is a numpty. I had nothing easier. Sure, my biological father was loaded and helped me start Dovetail in the UK, but he rode my arse. Nothing was easy or handed to me. It was demanded and earned.
I didn’t get to go out fishing with my father on holiday. Nothing was fun about my fucking childhood, but Milo acts as though I was fed from a silver spoon while he ate off the ground. It’s bloody ridiculous.
“We’ll agree to disagree, but, Mum, I do have to tell you something . . .”
Now to inform her that if my meeting goes well today, I’ll be bringing an American home to
London for a bit.
“Are there any other loose ends you’d like to discuss?” my lawyer asks as he pulls the contract from his briefcase.
I turn to Nicole. “I do.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
Her eyebrows pull in, and I find her utterly adorable. “I want to be sure that once this is signed two things happen.” I shift in my chair, but square my shoulders. I have no idea if she’ll agree, and if that’s the case, then I’ll walk from hiring her. I’ll pay her whatever she needs to keep her from playing that bullshit card of working for me.
“Okay?”
“I want to be sure what you promised the other night still stands. And I want my second date.”
Her jaw drops. “Callum, really?”
“Yes, really. I want to hear it. I’ll still sign the papers, but with a broken heart.”
She rolls her eyes, mischief dancing in them, and looks at the lawyer. “We slept together, and I told him once this contract was final that was the end of the . . . you know, sex. Then, the bastard coerced me . . .”
“Coerced?” Please, hardly. “I don’t think it was that way, love.”
“Yeah, what do you call refusing to—”
“We get it.” I stop her. She really has no issue with speaking her mind.
“Okay, I’m just saying to this fine gentleman that coercion was absolutely what you did. But I said I wasn’t going to end things once you and I signed the deal, and I won’t.”
“Understood.” I grin. “Second term.”
Nicole leans back with her arms crossed over her chest. “There was only one thing we agreed on, Mr. Huxley.”
“I’m aware of that, Ms. Dupree.”
“Then there was only one thing and we discussed it.”
How wrong she is. “I have another.”
“Oh?” She huffs. “I can’t wait to hear this.”
I have a feeling she really isn’t excited, but I need this to work. There’s business I need to attend to in London that I can’t put off any longer, but I also have a very strong feeling that the minute we’re apart, she’ll bolt. Therefore, this is the only way I can mitigate the possibilities.
Not Until You Page 12
