Sexy Lips 66

by Dakota Cassidy

  The motherfucker.

  It happened then.

  Callie Winston snapped—like a dry twig, like the sharp click of fingers rubbing together, drumming to the beat of a tune only she could hear—like the crack of a riding crop, slicing the air, seeking a target.

  She lost it.

  Completely and for the first time in her life.

  The swarm of words and thoughts that kept her from living her life to the fullest possible extreme bubbled—shooting in every direction in her head—boiling over and dripping down the sides of the pot that was her brain.

  She saw pink, green, purple—red—every damn color in the Crayola rainbow pack.

  Callie grabbed her handset with a quick jab Sugar Ray Leonard would have run screaming from and punched Frank’s number in without thought to anything but making him pay for the hell she was in now.

  “Hello?”

  “Frank, it’s Callie.”

  “What can I do for you?” he asked irritably, as though Callie were interrupting him and Barbie during playtime.

  And then, Callie exploded—for the first time in nearly fifteen years of keeping her big, fat, razor sharp tongued mouth shut, she opened it and she opened it wide. “You know what you can do for me, Frank? You can get your selfish ass out of the Barbie Dream House, get in Ken’s corvette and do what the fuck you’re supposed to when you take Aston! When he needs to go to the vet on your next visit, tell Barbie the botox slash liposuction is going to have to wait, otherwise, I’m going to let Aston skip his next rabies shot and then, sic him on your little Brittany Spears! You got that, you selfish, overblown, egotistical, lying, cheating asshole?”

  Frank sputtered, but Callie thwarted his effort and ran right over him like a friggin’ Mac truck without brakes, screaming down a straight away—destination hell.

  “Pay close attention here, Frank,” Callie seethed between teeth that were clenched. “You’ve fucked with me since day one, but you can’t fuck with me anymore, got that, Frank?” she hissed his name with venom into the mouthpiece of the phone. “There will be no more excuses. If you don’t live up to the divorce agreement, I’ll take all that pretty money I managed to squeeze out of your tight, white ass from your retirement fund and sue you until there’s not a vein I haven’t tapped! I’ll drag you through the courts and the same pit of mud you dragged me through and when I’m done—I’ll cut your balls up into little slivers and eat them on—fucking—crackers! Hear me, Frank?” Callie shouted into the phone. “So tell Barbie to get her act together and make her appointments for complete overhauls on a day when you’re not visiting with the dog you say you love so fucking much! Now slink back off to the Barbie condo and lovingly lick some of those greenbacks you’re going to part with to pay for Aston’s vet visits! Kiss it goodbye, you freak and while you’re at it? Kiss my fucking dumb ass for ever marrying someone as self-absorbed, brain cell deficient, vain, vapid and shallow as you! Oh, and you know what else, you leech?” Callie took an enormous breath and dealt the final, kiss of death. “You—suck—in—bed!”

  Callie clicked the phone off to the tune of Frank’s heavy, nostril flared breathing with a triumphant stab of her finger.

  “Fuck you, Frank!” Callie shouted into her kitchen, fists clenched and face red with fury. “Fuck you, you spineless—weak—mother—fucker!”

  Deep breathing, Callie thought. Take deep, cleansing breaths. Callie grabbed the handle of her fridge and leaned against it, heaving for air, clinging to the silver surface for love or money.

  Finally.

  Oh, Jesus, finally, she’d done what ran rampant in her wildest fantasies for years now. Callie Winston had told Frank, her ex-freak, who’d sucked her dry of nearly everything she had to give—to piss—the—fuck—off and it felt damn good.

  For every cruel act of betrayal, for every endless night of suffering, for every floor she wore a path in over him, for every emotion and thought she couldn’t share because she’d allowed Frank to beat her into mental submission, she’d finally told him to fuck off.

  God, she’d needed that.

  It left her shaking, trembling with the power of it, but by all that was screwed up in her head, Callie Winston officially stood up and said no more.

  No fucking more.

  Weak…she was weak from it, depleted and deflated. On trembling legs she went to her bedroom and flopped on her bed, staring at the ceiling blankly.

  Never again would she allow Frank to take anything from her. He’d taken every last shred of self-esteem she had. She’d allowed him to leave her emotionally fucked in the head and Callie would be God damned if she’d let him do it anymore.

  This was one of those Dr. Phil moments, right?

  A defining, refining, finding, discovering or some such epiphany moment…Or—a nervous breakdown.

  Whichever.

  Aston nudged her foot with his nose and Callie sat up. His eyes, brown and soft looked up at her with confusion. Callie reached down to cup his muzzle with a shaky hand. “It’s alright, cookie. Mommy flipped a nut. Actually, I think I lost one there, but daddy won’t be neglecting you anymore because I won’t allow it.”

  Aston cocked his head, obviously still confused, but Callie slid off the bed and pulled him into her lap. “It’s all good now, Aston.”

  It’s all good.

  Chapter 23

  “Hey, Callie. How’s Briiiaan?” Katherine drawled his name out as she leaned over Callie’s desk in her office.

  Callie shrugged with as much nonchalance as she could muster. “I have no clue,” she offered tightly.

  Katherine cocked her frosted blonde head in obvious what-the-fuck mode. “Huh? What the frig does that mean? You just spent three of the best days of your life with him?”

  Callie swallowed thickly. “They were good,” she said vaguely, refusing to look up at Katherine and give her the satisfaction of seeing her pain.

  “Um, hellloo. Good? Honeybunch, you were talking like you’d had a whole rugby team rolling you around in those sheets at the Motel Six. It was more than good, toots. What gives?” Katherine slid her curvy, pert ass to sit on the edge of Callie’s desk as her eyes pierced Callie’s.

  Callie licked her dry lips. “Nothing gives. It was good. It’s done.” Oh, God, please don’t make me explain the gory details.

  Katherine clucked her tongue. “Talk to me, Callie. How can it be done when it’s only just started?”

  “We had sex,” Callie hissed out on a shaky breath. “Now it’s done.”

  “Sex?” Katherine spat in a hushed tone. “No, honey, it was more than that. As I recall he said you’d fulfilled all of his fantasies. Every last one. So how can he possibly want that to be done?”

  Callie ran a hand over her eyes. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?”

  Katherine’s eyes narrowed into small slits in her head, her powder blue eye shadow took on a green cast. “Give me his fucking number. I’ll do just that.” She slapped her hand on Callie’s desk for emphasis.

  “Ask him what, Katherine? Why he played me? Why he led me on and let me believe that this had more to do with something between us than sex?” Callie snorted, “Nah. Why bother. I was used. We both know that potential was there when I set out to meet him in the first place. No big deal.” Atta girl, show your very savvy friend you can be just as savvy.

  “Oooh, no, miss. No man invests the kind of time he did on the phone with you. For a time there I thought I might have to buy you cell phone minutes for Christmas next year. No man drives six hours to just have sex. From the looks of him he could have had that right where he was. Booty is aplenty in the farm country.”

  “Yeah, well he needed to play hero and I was the perfect victim in need of rescue. It was a game, a dalliance for mercenary man. I guess the yen to rescue someone becomes too much between trips to Iraq.” Consider her rescued from her long, dry, sexless season. Should tide her over for another lifetime or so.

  “Callie, look at me. Rescued? Victim? How
do you figure you’re a victim?”

  Callie couldn’t meet Katherine’s stare, she let her head drop to her chest and swiveled her chair to face the window that’s view once brought her peace. “Brian knows all about my divorce from Frank, Katherine. Who wouldn’t need a hero after that mess? Brian is good at rescuing people. It’s his living. Maybe he has some kind of hero complex, I don’t know, but I sure as hell gave him plenty of reasons to think I needed a good fucking to boost my morale. Hoo Rah and all,” Callie added scathingly.

  Katherine inhaled sharply. “Callie, you have scars, no doubt. Frank was a freak, but Brian is not Frank.”

  “Really? Well, he sure as hell has some similar tactics then. Say one thing and do completely another. Oh, Frank told me all the time how much he loved me while he slid that fucking zipper of his for anyone that remotely resembled the opposite sex and merely twitched. Yes, yes Katherine, Brian is just like Frank and I fell for it just like I did with Frank. So there. There it is, now let it go and let me lick my god-damned wounds in my own private, peaceful hell!” Callie’s voice had risen and her throat was clogging with fury. She was embarrassed for her stupidity and it stuck in her craw right now.

  Katherine’s next words were spoken calmly, grating on Callie’s raw, exposed nerves. “How did you draw this conclusion that Brian is just like Frank?”

  Callie swung her office chair around to face Katherine, heat tweaking her cheeks. “Well, let’s see. I spent three days fucking him, not to mention all of the time invested in our e-mails and instant messaging and phone calls that my cell phone company’s entire staff could take a flippin’ three week cruise on, only to have heard absolutely nothing from him in two days. Two damn days where the woman he had in his back damn pocket for almost two months has been forgotten. Nothing, not an e-mail, not a phone call, not a thanks for the fuck-fest. Nothing. I know he’s not off in Iraq because the site tells you when someone is online and Brian’s been online at the site—probably scamming some other poor damsel in distress! That’s how I drew this conclusion, Katherine. It didn’t take Angela Lansbury to friggin’—figure—it—out!” Callie yelled the last words, choppy, but succinct.

  Katherine lifted her chin and crossed her arms over her white silk shirt. “Really? Did you e-mail him? Did you call him?”

  “Have you overdone the tofu, Katherine? No I didn’t freakin’ call him and I didn’t e-mail him and I have no intention of doing so! I don’t beg.” Never, never again would Callie be left feeling that desperate. Callie didn’t ask anyone to pay attention to her. If Brian wanted her, he’d damn well better come get her and he hadn’t.

  So, okay.

  No mission to search and destroy.

  Mission aborted.

  Katherine’s face was red and she literally seethed at Callie. “Oh, I see how this goes. Brian extends himself for Callie, but Callie can’t do the same? Brian calls Callie, Brian comes to see Callie, Brian does it all and Callie can’t even e-mail him? How come Brian has to play by Callie’s rules and if they aren’t exactly as you see fit—because your criteria for said rules changes minute-to-minute—then Brian is a no-good shit? Maybe Brian is just as insecure about how you feel about him now. I mean you did fuck right back didn’t you? Isn’t that just as likely? Maybe he’d like to have you make the effort first? Why must you insist on hiding until someone drags you out of this hole you keep slinking off to? What the hell is that about?” Katherine hissed in obvious frustration.

  “He rented a hotel room, bought me a dinner or two and had his wicked way with me, then left. That’s what the hell that is,” Callie said stonily, because she didn’t have an answer as to why she couldn’t e-mail Brian. She just couldn’t…

  “Callie!” Katherine shouted as her head shot up and she snapped her fingers under Callie’s nose. “Pay attention to me! You had your wicked way right back with him! Brian said things to you that had meaning—he made all of the gestures to make this thing happen—he told you he wanted you, for Christ sake. How do you figure e-mailing him is out of line? Hell, if I were you, I’d be planning the color coordination of napkins and tablecloths right now for our big wedding at the Four Seasons!” Katherine yelled, and then took a breath and softened her tone. “Don’t run scared, Callie. Please, don’t. Brian is not Frank. Brian is many things and I’m sure he comes with as many faults as anyone, but he isn’t Frank. You’re running away Callie Winston, as far and as fast as you can and quite possibly missing the opportunity to have something we all want and some of us will never find.”

  Callie rolled her head on her neck and closed her eyes. “No, I’m not running, Katherine. The last time I heard from Brian was when he got home and that was it.”

  “What did you say to Brian during that phone call, Callie?”

  Callie blew out a breath. “He left a message on my cell, but I told him before he ever left that he needed to think about the fact that he’d given thought to anything long term. We have very different lives. That maybe it was a ‘heat of the moment’ thing and I didn’t want him to have regrets for saying so. He shushed me. I let it go. I guess he thought about it, and decided I wasn’t worth the effort.” Callie visualized that moment in her head, as Brian held her and whispered that everything would be alright. This was not alright. This free falling, on the edge shit was not alright.

  Nothing was right.

  Katherine rolled her eyes heavenward. “You were pretending to be mature. Good. That’s not what I asked. What I asked was what did you say to him after he left his message? Did you blow him off in Callie Winston style?”

  “I didn’t talk to him after that because he said he’d holler at me later and what do you mean blow him off? He said I was his every fantasy. He said he wanted to be with me. I said I wanted that too. I was truthful…” Callie hedged.

  “And nothing happened between now and then?” Katherine prodded with the insistence of an interrogator.

  Callie flexed her fingers. “Well, I—I…”

  Katherine gripped Callie’s chin and made her look at her. “You what, Callie?”

  It was the what she was sure was going to doom her in Katherine’s eyes. “Isenthimane-mail…whenIgothome,” Callie said hurriedly, stringing the words together in a blob of rushed shame.

  Katherine’s lips pursed and she squeezed Callie’s chin harder. “That said what?”

  Callie pulled her chin from Katherine’s hand and averted her head. “I just said the same stuff I said before he left. That there was no obligation to me.”

  “Do you still have that e-mail, Cal?”

  Callie swallowed hard. “Y—yes.”

  Katherine thumbed Callie out of her way. “Move, show me.”

  Callie knew she didn’t have a choice. She rose on shaky legs so that Katherine could have her chair. Katherine reached a manicured hand out to the mouse and clicked on the e-mail Callie pointed to titled, “Hope you made it home safely.”

  Callie cringed as Katherine’s lips formed a thin line.

  “Nice, Callie. Did you kick him in the ass on the way out the door? Jesus, Callie.” Katherine’s voice held more than reproach, it held disgust and disappointment.

  Callie’s cheeks burned and her anger, just below a thin surface that boiled to the top, blew. “Whaaaat? I fucking let him off the hook! What’s wrong with that?” she yelped.

  “No, Callie, you essentially told him to piss off!”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Oh, well here’s my first clue. ‘If I never hear from you again I’ll understand. No obligation required’.” Katherine held up her hand to shut Callie’s protest up. “Wait, it gets better. ‘I’d completely understand if you just want to let this go, Brian’,” she read from Callie’s e-mail, her tone mocking and disdainful. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Callie? No, you won’t let this go, because Brian means something to you and I don’t give a shit if it’s only been two months. He said things to you that make him have to atone to you. You invited him to dump you! Your e-mail
screams, thanks, but no thanks! He claimed he had feelings for you and you threw it back at him as if they meant nothing to you!”

  “I wanted him to know if he didn’t mean it, he was free to be done!”

  Katherine sneered at her. “No, Callie. What you wanted to do was hurt Brian before he could hurt you, without ever stopping to think that what the two of you shared had value and your words—those words that you’re so skilled at in e-mail—might have hurt him. Why can’t you just once believe that someone wants you? Not just as a pretty toy—not just because you’re easy prey, but because you’re you!” Katherine hissed at her.

  “You wanted to keep him from rejecting you—so you could say I was first because then, in your fucked-up head you’ve stopped this heartache you seem bound and determined will happen! You’ll make up any excuse in your twisted mind to stop that from happening. You freaked out and shot the first arrow because you panicked. How very mature of you, Callie! You shared three days with an amazing man and you’d be willing to throw it all away because you’re afraid! You’re afraid Brian will be what you want and that’s too much for someone like you to take because it’s so much easier to stay hidden and not take a chance. What you’re really afraid of is Brian will come get your lame, emotionally stunted ass and make you want him right back and that means you have to feel something for him. Take a chance on him and the possibility of living again—maybe losing him to heartbreak. It means you have to take a chance on someone other than your damn dog!”

  Katherine looked at her with eyes that were ablaze with a fury Callie had never seen before. “You know what, Cal? Do the rest of us poor women looking for someone even close to a man like Brian a favor and stay hidden. Curl up in your little corner of the world and stay the fuck there so no one else will get hurt in your bullshit fallout!”

  Callie couldn’t speak. Every word Katherine spoke was the truth. Callie wasn’t willing to give Brian the chance to show her he’d used her. She couldn’t ask if he had—or why he had and if he hadn’t, then what was next.