by P. Dangelico
“Camilla…there’s something else I need to say.” Turning, she meets my gaze squarely. “There’s only one person that’s as precious to me as Sam is, and that’s Calvin.” I’m not surprised. By the way, she’s been watching us since she got here, it was only a matter of time. “What happened with Kim almost destroyed him. I don’t know what your intensions are, but I know my brother and he’s rarely interested in someone. If this is anything other than mutual, then be warned. I don’t respond well to him being hurt.”
I could go on a long monologue about how I would never hurt anyone, let alone someone I love. I could…but I don’t.
“No need to worry. I’m moving out day after tomorrow, and the only thing between your brother and me is friendship. I want children. I always have. And after spending so much time with Sam, I couldn’t be any more certain of it. Like I said, you’re very lucky. Your brother doesn’t want a family. He’s made it abundantly clear––end of story.” She’s taken aback at my directness. Mission accomplished. Awkwardness hangs in the silence. “If you don’t mind, I’m exhausted.”
“Oh yeah, sure.”
Standing by the door, I wait for her to leave. She finally realizes she’s being kicked out and exits. As soon as she steps out into the hall, I say goodnight and shut the door.
I guess I can’t fault her for worrying about her brother. However, something else keeps nagging me. My gut instincts tell me that she needs Calvin to be whole so she can fall apart. I don’t like it one bit…except he’s not mine to protect, or worry about.
I put on my tank top and pajama shorts. I crawl into bed and shut the light off. Two minutes later, the door opens and closes. The mattress dips. He scoots closer, curving his hips around mine. I don’t say a word because I don’t know what to say. I hate that he’s here. And I love it, crave it. A burst of pure joy rips through me every time I see him, smell him, feel him pressing that body that won’t quit against mine. He wraps his arm around my waist and digs his nose in my hair.
“Seriously?”
“Shhh, go to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I do as he asks. Because really, what choice do I have? My heart has already chosen.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I’m nervous. Like, really nervous. I went from being a major bloodthirsty football fan, to whimpering lovestruck nervous nelly in a matter of four months. Every time someone comes within touching distance of Cal, I hold my breath and cringe. Football is officially no longer fun for me. Everyone else seems to be having a great time, though. My Dad is busy entertaining Sam and Amanda with his corny jokes during commercial breaks. They’re all laughing and carrying on––no sweat. Amber’s been getting her kicks by taunting poor Ethan, who happens to be handling it like a true gentleman. Me? I’m living on adrenaline.
By the end of the third quarter, I’m beyond drained. Add insult to injury, the game is a nail bitter. It comes down to the last possession. The Titans get the ball on their own ten yard line and have to drive the length of the field for the game winning field goal. On second and five, Cal ends up getting sacked. The next second I’m on my feet, screaming, “Get off of him, you fat fuck!”
Not my best moment. I’ll admit it. Needless to say, I draw a bunch of attention and some applause. In the end, the Titans squeak out a victory. Hallelujah.
Ethan orders me to wait for Calvin and commandeers the Yukon to drive everyone home. This does not sit well with me. I’m not even sure Calvin won’t go straight to his car. As I contemplate the horror of sitting here by myself while every other family member departs with a corresponding player, my spirits steadily sink. I feel more and more unsure with each passing minute I don’t see that beautiful face appear in the doorway. And then, in an instant, all doubt disappears.
He steps into the room and scans the area, his eyes quickly moving across the crowd. His hair is still wet and his face clean shaven. His suit is impeccable. He’s so beautiful it stops my heart. No really, I feel it skip a couple of beats.
Finally, he finds me standing behind a group of people headed for the door of the clubhouse. Quite a few curious glances turn his way. Some people pat his arm and congratulate him on a good game, but he doesn’t acknowledge them; his attention is all for me. He’s crossing the room, heading in my direction. Without hesitation, he takes my face in his hands and kisses me as if we aren’t standing in a room full of people watching us. And he doesn’t stop. Not when someone wolf whistles, not when someone laughingly shouts, “Get a room.”
Pulling away, he says, “Ready to go home?”
I nod. It isn’t my home, but I don’t have it in me to correct him. When he hangs his arm around my neck, I catch him wincing. My frown is immediate.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“It’s official. I hate football.”
I open the door to my bedroom and find Calvin tucked into my bed, snoring…I am so screwed. He soaked in ice as soon as we got home. Then he practically crawled upstairs. Since Amanda and Sam are leaving tomorrow, I spent some time with them, talking and watching tv––saying our goodbyes. I’m going to miss Sam so much I can’t even bear to think about it.
Cal looks so peaceful in sleep, even though I know for a fact how banged up he is. Saw it for myself when he asked me to get his sweats out of the closet and didn’t bother to warn me that he’d dropped his towel. I was so upset about the bruise on his ribs I almost didn’t notice the rest of him.
The urge to touch him, to run my hands over every inch of that delicious body to make sure he’s not permanently maimed is overwhelming. Slowly, I lower myself next to his hip and sift my fingers through his hair. A muffled sigh greets me. His eyes slow blink open and take me in, his expression so serious it checks me.
“Come here.” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, or act. He wraps those game winning hands around my arms and pulls me down, rolling us over until I’m on my back and he’s in-between my thighs. And good heavens does my body approve. His hips press into mine and it’s my turn to sigh. How the heck can he be this hard already?
This is happening. I don’t give a single shit what the consequences are. It’s a given my heart is getting broken, therefore, I might as well enjoy the hot sex that goes with it. Because it will be hot––there’s absolutely no doubt about it.
“How much longer are you going to torture me?” I whisper. His lazy smile and bedroom eyes lay waste to every coherent thought in my head. I think my eggs just got fertilized by that look alone.
“Until tomorrow. As soon as the people in the next two rooms get the hell out of my house. Then you’re mine.”
There goes my heart again, doing backflips like a dolphin at Sea World.
“Now be real quiet while I get a taste.”
“What?”
I don’t have time to say anything else. He sinks down and kisses a path down my neck, over my collarbone, headed straight for my breasts. In one swift move, he rips my tank top over my head. Then he comes up on his elbows and stares. The expression on his face is…pained. He looks like he’s in pain.
“How are your ribs? Maybe we should wait until you heal?”
“Honey, there’s only one way to make this pain go away.” He lowers himself back down and cups my breasts. Fastening his mouth onto my nipple, he licks and pulls. His other hand quickly covers my mouth before the scream can leave my lips. Sweet Baby Jezuz. That feels so good I may die of pleasure. “They’re even better than I imagined.”
His hand leaves my mouth and skates down my body, caressing everywhere it travels. Those hands that know how to measure and calibrate the millimeters it takes to win a championship are busy learning me. A burning need pulses between my thighs. “Calvin…Calvin.”
He shifts, rocking his erection against my aching lady parts and I have to bite my lip to stop from crying out. I’m being teased into madness while his discipline could rival that of a buddhist monk. His big warm hand slips inside my shorts and underwear. One hand teases and tugs at my nipple whi
le the other plays between my thighs. He kisses the corners of my mouth, my lips as I whimper and beg for more.
“Shhhh.” He covers my mouth again with his palm. Skilled fingers pet and stroke me, push inside of me until I’m nearly dying with the need to come. Until I fall into an orgasm that has me bowing off the bed and digging my nails into his massive biceps. Keeping the pressure steady, he eases me down gently, expertly. The feel of his his soft lips on my neck makes me shiver, makes me yearn for more, keeps me in a suspended state of longing and lust. This isn’t sex. He’s making love to me, showing me how he feels, proving how important my pleasure is to him.
My eyes blink open to find his face inches from mine, watching me with total fascination. The pressure in my throat intensifies. Swallowing does nothing to get rid of it. I can’t hide from him any longer. What’s the point? It is, what it is––and nothing’s going to change that. I’m in love with a man I can’t have. The quicker I come to terms with that, the quicker the recovery. Cupping his face, I let everything that’s in my heart shine openly in my eyes.
“Stay with me,” he murmurs.
My hand falls between us, measuring the shape of him over his boxer briefs. He’s so hard it has got to be painful. His brow furrows. I scrape my short nails up and down his erection and he groans harshly.
“Let me take care of you.”
Calvin plants a heartfelt kiss on my mouth, lingering awhile to taste me, brushing his lips back and forth on mine. Pulling back, he holds my gaze, the gravity of the moment apparent in his expression.
“I haven’t made love in a very long time. If I get started, I’m not gonna be able to stop.”
Made love? Good Lord, I’m dead. Or something like it. I’m official dying of love for this man.
His fingers gently brush my hair back while he takes in my reaction. “Tomorrow you’re mine.”
He shifts, returning to his spot next to me. Then he wraps his arm around my waist and buries his face in the curve of my neck, exhaling one long relaxed breath. There isn’t any part of us that isn’t touching. Like he can’t bear to have even an inch separating us, like he’s afraid I’ll sneak away.
I’m so close to proclaiming my love out loud that I have to forcibly bite my tongue. Instead, I pet and stroke up and down his arm, place tender kisses all over his face, squeeze him tight. In answer, he grumbles his appreciation and snuggles closer. Not ten minutes after that I hear his soft snore. It’s suddenly the dearest sound in the world to me. In my excitement, I almost forgot he played a game today. But tomorrow…tomorrow he’s mine.
The next morning I walk into the kitchen to find Calvin cooking breakfast––I kid you not. I’m actually surprised he didn’t pack their bags and put them out on the front doorsteps. Sam and Amanda are at the kitchen table, digging into…are those pancakes triangular?
“Mercedes?” I ask the chef.
With a lethal smirk, he says, “Gave her the day off.”
I take a seat at the table and load my plate with scrambled eggs.
“Would you like some triangular pancakes?” Amanda queries. My eyes connect with hers over the rim of her coffee cup and we both chuckle.
After we all have breakfast together, Cal and I help Amanda load her Mercedes with all of Sam’s Lego sets, which takes much longer than Cal anticipated. By noon, I think he’s ready to have an honest to goodness meltdown. We all say our goodbyes. I hug Sam tightly, almost incapable of letting go, and tell him I love him and I’ll miss him and make sure he has my number so he can call any time he wishes. They’ll be coming up for Christmas and we make plans to get together.
Amanda is in her car, about to drive off, when Ethan’s Audi comes up the driveway. Before he even parks the car, Calvin is waving his arms in the air.
“Hell no! Go home, Ethan. Can a man get some goddamn time alone with his girlfriend!”
The smirk Ethan levels at me is one of pure victory. With that, Amanda drives off and Ethan follows immediately afterward. Cal has his arm around my neck as we watch them disappear down the driveway. He looks down at me and what I find on his face makes my heart leap inside my chest. There’s lust, a lot of it. But more importantly, there’s reverence and wonder. And there’s love. Plenty of love. I have no doubt because I know what it looks like, and I know it’s all over my face, too.
“You wreck me…every time I look at you.” He searches my face to see the effects of his words. The effect is that I can’t see the beginning or end of my love for him. It’s a constant never-ending thing. How did this happen? How did we get here? Not too long ago we were barely able to tolerate each other. He snuck up on me, this sex on a stick, six foot four, two hundred and thirty pound man, snuck up on me and stole my heart.
I’ve only ever had sex with one person. I’m so nervous right now I’m practically vibrating out of my skin. Taking my wrist, he drags me into the foyer and doesn’t make it much farther. We’ve waited far too long to do this. Desire explodes between us, making us both impatient and clumsy, out of control. He wraps his hands around my face and devours my mouth, kissing me like his life depends on it.
Rising on my toes, I shove my fingers into his hair and hold him in place. He grabs my ass and pulls me against the baseball bat he has hidden under his favorite black track pants. Goodness gracious. It ignites a fire in my belly, awakening every primal instinct in my body, which is currently screaming, ‘Now! Do it now!’
He rips my long sleeve henley off. I return the favor with his t-shirt. Then I jump and wrap my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles while he carries me to the stairs. Thank fuck they’re covered with carpeting. Although at this point, nothing short of a fatal wound is gonna stop me. Placing me down on the stairs, he whisks off my jeans in a nanosecond and rears back to inspect his handiwork. His intense gaze takes in every inch of skin the daylight reveals. I’ve never seen his expression so…taken, awestruck––and hungry. I’ve never seen anyone look at me this way.
“Do you trust me?”
I do. I trust him as implicitly as I do my parents and Amber. “Yes.”
“I haven’t been with anyone since Kim and I broke up. We take blood every couple of months to check for PEDs. I’m clean and I know you are.” Oh, yeah––the “contagious disease” test. “I don’t want anything between us. But I’ll grab a condom if you want me to.”
“I don’t want anything between us, either.” The smile that comes over him is spectacular. He takes my bra off gingerly, as if he’s savoring every minute. My panties come next. I’m sprawled out naked on the stairs. His eyes are on me wide and unblinking. “You’re so goddam beautiful. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Standing, he pushes his pants down and I suck in a breath. My God…was there ever a more perfect figure of man than this. Those traps. Lord have mercy. They make my mouth water every time they make an appearance. His dick is so thick and hard it practically reaches his belly button. I can’t take my eyes off of it. I’m…mesmerized.
“If you stare at it any longer, Honey, I’m going to go off before the fun begins.” My eyes meet his and he smiles a little knowing smile that makes all sorts of deliciously filthy promises. Then he picks me up off the stairs. “Not on the stairs…maybe later, though,” he says with a sexy smirk.
I kiss him over and over while he carries me into the den.
“Not on the new couch!” I screech. “I’d like to see you explain the mess to Mercedes.”
Without pausing, he keeps going up the stairs, headed to his bedroom. Planting me on his bed, he makes a place for himself between my thighs. Everywhere our skin touches, it’s like an electric charge runs through me. The precum leaking from his erection slips over and in between my body. I scream when he hits my clit over and over again. There’s no time, or need for a slow seduction. The foreplay has been going on for weeks. I can’t take anymore. That’s why I hook my leg around his waist and on the next rock of his hips he slides right into me. I can hardly breathe I’m so full.<
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“Jezuz Christ,” he groans. “Don’t move, or I’ll come. You’re so tight, Honey. Don’t move.”
I need him to move, or I will die. One squeeze of my kegels and he shouts out his release, his face crumbling as if he just took a hit of the best drug ever created. His forehead falls onto the mattress next to me as he basks in the afterglow of his orgasm. I feel his soft lips on my neck, his hands weave into my hair. He licks my earlobe and nibbles it.
Little by little, I can feel him growing harder inside of me and I slowly. Lose. My. Mind. His hips starts rocking. His movements determined, in control. There’s no hesitation in the way Cal makes love. He knows exactly what he wants and how to go about getting it. His thrusts come harder now. His hand, heavy and warm on my breast, brushes back and forth on my nipple. I’m close, so bloody close. I grab his ass and dig my fingers into the dents of his cheeks. He grunts and thrusts faster.
He angles his hips a fraction and his hair rubs me in just the right spot. One more stroke and I go off like it’s the Fourth of frigging July all over again, except this time the fireworks are happening inside my body. The climax keeps going and going in pulsing waves that never seem to end. Cal keeps thrusting, milking my orgasm for every drop, not wasting even a bit of it. He pinches my nipple hard and it launches me into another one. He’s my anchor and I cling to him because I am lost in a sea of bliss. So lost I may never be found again.
After the bed gets destroyed, he decides he needs to take me from behind on the stairs. The rug burns on my knees will last for weeks. I returned the favor my riding him hard and slow on the marble of the kitchen island. I think he may have bruised a vertebra. By ten, after a fortifying meal of pizza, we debate for a second whether we should both ice up and decide to go back to bed instead.
My head rests on his chest while he plays with my hair. The sense of satisfaction I’m feeling right now is in a class by itself. I could stay like this forever and not want for anything else.