by P. Dangelico
“Like Shana level gorgeous?” Shana, an ex-friend who models. Ex because she dropped me like a bad habit while I was being investigated.
“Yeah, if Shana was ten times hotter. She’s like Cindy Crawford in her prime gorgeous, Angelina in Mr. and Mrs. Smith level gorgeous.”
“How dare she. I hate her already.”
“I know. And Cal dotes on her.”
“By the way, I had every intension of giving you the silent treatment for at least a week for ditching at intermission. But it seems your loaner boyfriend got us a ton of free press, so I’ve decided to let you off the hook for this one.
“Thanks, buddy.”
“Don’t say I never do nothin’ for ya––”
“Now back to me. He’s so sweet it’s making me a little ill to watch them,” I whisper hiss.
“You’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous––it’s his sister.” There’s a soft knock at the door. “Hold that thought.”
It’s the first night I’m not on duty. It’s also the first night I’ve shut my door. I glance at the time on my phone. 10:59. It can only be one person. I raise the sheet up to cover my tank top.
“Yes?” I call out.
The door opens. Cal walks in and closes the door behind him. Closes the door?
“Amber, there’s a man invading my personal space,” I say loud enough for him to hear. For this, I get a smirk. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
With an exasperated exhale, I state the obvious, “Reginald, you are in my bedroom with nothing but a pair of ratty ass boxers on.”
“It’s a family name.” He walks over to my bed and lies down next to me as if he’s done it a million times. Confusion parks itself on my face.
“What are you doing?” I whisper. “And why are you still awake?”
He’s on his stomach, fluffing the pillow he then shoves under his head. “What happens next on Banshee?”
“It’s a school night, Reginald. You have to be up early.” There’s a strange look on his face I don’t recognize. Anticipation? An alert twinkle in his big gray eyes?
“Thank you for talking to Sam. I don’t know what you said to him, but it worked. And Mandy really appreciates it.” I sink down into the mattress, lying on my side to face him.
“You don’t have to thank me. I love that kid. I’d do anything to help him.”
“What happens next on Banshee? Do they find Job? I don’t like what they did to Gordon.”
The look on his face is killing me. If he asked for a kidney with that look, I’d give him two.
“I’m not telling. You have to watch it.”
“Then let’s watch it.”
“Reggy––”
Cal rolls his eyes. “That’s never going to stop, is it?”
“Not likely.” His soft gaze falls to my lips, and I feel it all the way down to my nether region. If I don’t say or do something to distract myself, I may end up sexually assaulting him. “Your sister’s beautiful. Now I know why your parents had so many kids.” His black brow arches in question. “If you and your sister are any indication, they were totally hot as bawls.” He snorts at this. “Makes sense that they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. I can only imagine what your brothers look like. You guys must’ve had every chick in high school stalking you.”
Something I said makes his amusement fade. The look on his face tells me he wants to say something important so I keep my big mouth shut.
“I never dated in high school. My brothers did, but I couldn’t bring another person into that mess…I couldn’t risk it.” His fingers inch closer to my hand, which is resting between us.
“Risk it?”
“Getting someone pregnant.” He was so petrified of having a baby he was abstinent all throughout high school? Please make the pain stop. “My parents were seventeen when they had me.”
Slay me now. Just put me out of my misery. It feels like I just stepped on a land mine called Calvin Shaw and he’s blown my poor tender heart to smithereens. It never crossed my mind that I could love this way again––all consuming and without a shred of self-preservation. Unfortunately, I was very wrong, very frigging wrong.
“I can’t even imagine how hard that was for you,” I murmur.
“It was either get the bottles ready and change diapers, or listen to the boys cry while I was trying to sleep, or study. Mandy helped.”
“She’s the second oldest, right?” Cal nods. His hand covers mine so they’re palm to palm. I thought I had long fingers, but his dwarf mine. The warmth of his hand seeps in and spreads all the way to my heart. Shifting, he’s on his side, only a foot separating us, so close I can feel the heat radiating from him, smell the scent of his shampoo and deodorant. It’s so familiar to me now. Like he’s mine. Except he’s not.
“When is she driving back to Virginia?”
“Hopefully in a couple of days. Why?”
“I have to let my parents know when I’m moving back in.”
His frown is immediate. “Why?”
“Why do I have to let them know?” I chuckle. “Because I have manners, you dope.” It’s a reflex move, done without thought or premeditation, I reach out my index finger and poke this nose. He doesn’t waste the opportunity. Grasping my wrist, he pulls it in, pulling until I’m forced to scoot closer.
Still wearing a very determined scowl, he says, “No, I mean why do you have to leave?”
“Calvin...” Again, he’s staring at my lips with a hunger in his eyes that I’m not too far gone to notice. He looks like he’s a hair’s breadth away from diving onto me. Something’s holding him back, though. My heart speeds up, pounding inside my chest. He drops my wrist and rakes his fingers through my hair, gripping at the root. My entire body shudders from the pleasure. And then his soft, pouty lips are on mine. The kiss is tentative, exploratory. He’s trying to figure out what I like, and when I sigh and sag against him, he slants his mouth and deepens the kiss.
I’ve only kissed one person my entire life. Technically, two if I count that drunk dude in college that grabbed me as I was leaving a frat party and stuck his tongue so far down my throat I could feel it in my gut. And yet this feels…well, it feels familiar. And it feels right. It feels so right it scares the living shit out of me because this is no fugazi. This is the real thing.
He pulls me closer. He’s stopped fighting it, whatever it is was that was holding him back. He’s a man possessed now, making love to my mouth like he’s been dying to do it, like I’m everything he’s ever wanted. And all that keeps running through my mind is yes, yes, yes! Shifting, I roll onto my back and he follows me, settling between my thighs with remarkable agility.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. His erection is rock solid and pushing against the inside of my thigh. I mean…I knew he was hung but the feel of him is something else altogether. It lights me up, calling into action every cell in my sex starved body. I run my hands over the amazing landscape of his back, every muscle hard and hot––like the rest of him. They move down to the swells of the most perfect ass the good Lord has ever created. I squeeze twice because I can, damn it. And in return, he rolls his hips, hitting me in just the right spot.
Holy frigging crap!!
“Cal,” I whisper-moan. His big hand covers my breast. Two fingers pluck at my nipple and I almost shoot off the bed. I feel his lips smile on the skin of my throat. Right before he scrapes it possessively with his teeth, then licks the abrasion.
That’s going to leave a mark. Doesn’t matter. Does. Not. Matter. There’s so much desire bleeding through me at the moment, I’m at risk of forgetting my first name. His hips have mine pinned to the mattress, his dick pressing right into my sweet spot. And I am lost, drunk on the delicious sensation of his weight and smell and touch. His head comes up. My eyes flutter open, and the sexy beast staring down at me with a wicked grin and a mischievous sparkle in his eyes circles his hips. I gasp, my eyes wide and rolling back in my head. He covers my mouth with his hand.
/>
“Stay with me.”
Huh? Did I just hear that right? I come to my senses for a super brief moment and meet his eyes. Uh oh, he has that look, the one that’s won him championships and––stuff. He rubs against me again and a shiver races up my spine and curls my toes.
“You don’t have to leave. Stay here.”
“Wha bu I iss.” I peel his hand away from my mouth and stare into the eyes of the man I love. The determination and anticipation I find there kills me. Because in those crystal clear eyes rimmed in steel blue, I also see my destruction.
My heart starts to pull back, retreat. It knows it’s in danger of being broken. Irreparably, this time. I’m in trouble, deep shit actually. I don’t ever remember exploding into love with Matt like this. Our progress was slow and methodical. It started as puppy love and stayed the course until we inevitably got married. I never questioned when, or how we fell in love. It seemed to me like I’d always been in love with Matt. But it never felt like this. This is something else entirely. I can’t stay. If I stay, he’ll ruin me. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that he’s attracted to me. I just can’t mistake this for anything other than lust. He doesn’t want a relationship. He doesn’t want a family. And who can blame him.
“Calvin––” My voice is soaked in regret and yearning. Nothing to be done for it. He kisses me passionately, swallowing up whatever else I am about to say.
“Don’t decide now. Think about it. Now shut off the light.”
Huh? He turns me away from him as easily as if he were handling a pillow. Then he pulls my hips back into his groin. He’s still hard. His erection nestles between the rounded cheeks of my rear end and I want to scream from the empty ache pulsing between my thighs. So close and yet so far away. He has the sexual self-control of a frigging ascetic. It’s simply astonishing. Breathing out a relaxed sigh, he buries his nose in my hair. No way can he just fall asleep like this? Right?
“Turn off the light, Cam. I have to be up by five.”
I reach up and turn off the bedside lamp, immersing the room in total darkness, while I remain immersed in unspent desire.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The next day, I leave Amanda and Sam to get reacquainted while Calvin heads off to practice. Tomorrow being the season home opener, he’s laser focused on the impending game and not noticing much else. At my parents’ house, I find my father outside gardening.
“How’s your blood pressure, Dad?”
He looks up from pruning the rose bushes. “Your mother’s got me taking this slow class at the American Legion.”
“You mean qigong?”
“I don’t know what that is. I’m doing the slow exercise.”
Curling my lips between my teeth, I fight the urge to laugh ‘cause I can tell Tom is getting irritated and God forbid that DeSantis temper sparks. “I’ll be moving back in soon.” My face feels tight as I speak.
He steps away from the bushes and wipes his hands on a rag. “Feel like a beer? I feel like a beer.”
Five minutes later, we’re kicking back on the freshly painted navy Adirondack chairs, gazing out at the marvel that is my father’s green thumb.
“You outdid yourself this summer. The trellis of climbing roses is breathtaking.”
He takes a sip of his cold beer. “I’ve been meaning to plant that for the past two years. Nothing like a health scare to remind you not to waste time.”
I turn to take him in. So stoic, my father. “Were you scared?”
He turns and holds my gaze. “Of course, I was…but not for myself––for you and your mother. Who’s going to take care of my girls if I’m gone?” The side of his mouth curves up, and his soft brown eyes crinkle at the corners.
“You know you don’t have to worry about me. And Mom is much tougher than you give her credit for. All the same, we still need you…especially to referee.”
“You two disagree because you’re so alike.” Heavy skepticism is all over my face. “You’ll figure it out, eventually.” We sit for some time just enjoying each other’s company, neither one of us needing to fill it with garbage talk.
“Are you coming tomorrow? Cal gave me passes to the clubhouse and field for you.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. So––are you gonna tell him?”
I stiffen at the casual query. “Tell him what?” I ask. My father being part bloodhound, I know he won’t be so easily distracted.
He shoots me a knowing smile. “How you feel.” Apparently, how I feel is no secret––to all seven billion people who inhabit planet Earth. Dissembling is pointless.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Punkin’, take it from an old man. It’s never as complicated as you imagine it to be.”
I spend the rest of the afternoon getting my room ready. Which suddenly seems about as big as a broom closet since I’ve been living at the Ritz for the past four months. It’s early evening when I get back to Cal’s.
“Where the hell have you been?” He’s on me as soon as I step into the side door that leads to the kitchen. Like he was listening for the car to enter the garage.
“Easy there, big guy. I went to see my parents.” I place my hand on his chest, to push him away since he’s all up in my business, and fail. Mistake. Big mistake. He takes it hostage, trapping it in place, and cages me against the wall with the rest of his body parts––his very nice body parts. Then, as if he has a right to, he grabs my face and kisses me…really kisses me.
I am instantly swamped by a tidal wave of lust and longing. The longing is the bad one. I can’t entertain the lust because of it. I love this man. I am in stupid love. And because of it, I cannot let myself enjoy one minute of the desire smoldering between us. On tippy toes, I grip his t-shirt and press my hips against the steel pole hiding under his silky track pants. One big mitt leaves my face and he slips it into the back pocket of my jean shorts, pulling me even harder against him. And I. Am. Done for. My mind draws a complete blank from the heat and pleasure spreading through me.
A double cough comes from the end of the hallway. Cal flinches. He pulls away, but doesn’t let me go.
“Yes?” Could he make his annoyance any clearer? That’s a hard no.
“Dinner’s ready,” Amanda announces. I bite the inside of my cheek as I watch his eyes narrow.
“Give us a minute,” he snaps.
“Okay––we’ll wait for you,” she replies, her tone instantly apologetic.
As soon as her soft footsteps fade away, he leans in and places a gentle kiss on my neck. Trying to push him off gets me nowhere.
“Did you think about it?”
“I can’t.”
He presses his hips into me again and I gasp, my eyes practically rolling to the back of my head.
“Yes, you can. We’ll discuss it later.”
“No, Calvin––” He pushes off the wall and is down the hall, headed to the kitchen, before I can get another word in.
Amanda has cooked a remarkably juicy roast chicken. I can tell she’s nervous so I make a big deal about complimenting the food. It seems to relax her a little. Her eyes are constantly jumping between Sam and Calvin, measuring their responses. Cal is quiet throughout dinner. He’s back to communicating in grunts and nods.
“The couscous is delicious Amanda. The blonde raisins give it a nice flavor.”
“Thanks,” she says, her eyes still on Sam.
“Isn’t this food delicious, Sam?”
“I guess,” is his surly reply. He’s been doing a lot of that the last couple of days, wavering between wanting to be nice and remembering how angry he is at her.
“I’d love to have you all over at my parents for dinner before you leave.”
At this, Calvin glances up. “There won’t be time.”
The words come flying out sharp and quick. Everyone at the table not named Calvin is kind of taken aback. I don’t see what the problem is? He likes my parents, I know he does. And they couldn’t love him
more, not to mention how crazy they are about Sam. “Why not?”
“Because they’re leaving day after tomorrow.”
Christ, he’s being a dick. What’s his deal tonight? And then I remember he’s playing tomorrow, so I cut him some slack and drop the glare I’m wearing.
“I was thinking we could hang out for another week,” Amanda offers casually.
“No.” He practically shouts. Now we all turn to stare in his direction. “Sam has to get back to school. He’s already gonna miss a few days.” Cal’s flat out glowering.
Amanda’s gaze falls to the food she’s dissecting into tiny pieces just like her brother does. “Yeah, you’re right,” she agrees in a small voice.
As soon as we’re done, Calvin disappears into his office to go over game tape of Arizona. I insist on washing the dishes since Amanda cooked. With a little encouragement, she and Sam go upstairs to watch tv.
Two hours later, I’m getting out of the shower when a I hear a soft knock at the door. Throwing on my cotton robe, I prepare to deal with my visitor.
“Now is not a good time, Cal.” I rip open the door to find Amanda standing there.
“Not Calvin,” she says, her lips briefly curving up.
Aaaand my face goes up in flames. “Is everything okay?”
“Can I come in for a minute?”
What is it with these Shaws and their late night visits? “Sure,” I say even though I’m kind of uneasy about it; I make a point to leave the door open.
“It won’t take long. I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done for Sam…for me.” She glides in, taking in the room. “I stayed in this room when Kim was still around.” Kim’s name ignites a spark of serious irritation. The last thing I want to do at this hour, or any hour for that matter, is hear about Calvin’s ex-wife.
“You don’t have to thank me. I love Sam. He’s absolutely wonderful…You’re very lucky.” That last bit was meant to remind her she’s responsible for a life. God knows, I envy her.
