“Christ, Jilly, what happened?”
It hurt when he called her Jilly with her content in his arms because he’d called her Jilly before. It was how it should be, though.
“I dreamed…about you.”
His lips pressed together, as though he forced himself not to interrogate.
“I dreamed of you over me, between my thighs, pushing inside me. I felt your hands on my hips and your mouth on my breasts, your arms around me, your breath on my face, and your words in my ear.”
“It was just a dream, Jilly.”
“That’s what I told myself.” She struggled to swallow past the emotion gathering in her throat. “I drank a cup of coffee and waited for it, for you, to fade into obscurity like every other dream. I drank the entire pot, washed and folded laundry, ran, and worked out, and ran again, trying to leave the feel of you behind, your smell, your touch.”
She pushed away from him to sit, but his arms locked around her.
“And?”
“I stayed up that night, thinking that if I were smashed, then the next night I wouldn’t dream about you. It didn’t work. It was never the same dream twice. It wasn’t every night. Those mornings were the worst because I had no excuse and still I woke thinking about you.”
“Did you tell Amery?”
“No.” Jillian shook her head. It pounded like a bass drum. “I hoped that if I ignored it, it would go away. I managed for a long time. Things were getting back to normal. Well, closer to normal, at least. You came back, and I didn’t die on the spot. You left again. I’d made it—tamed my demon, if not conquered it. Then I got the call.”
“My best friend, the center of the family I’d finally found for myself, was dead. For a fraction of a second, the tiniest part of me was happy.” Fat tears slipped down Jillian’s cheek onto her pretty lace rental. “I was happy because I thought I wouldn’t feel so guilty obsessing over her husband.”
A noise beyond the door robbed Jillian of the sobs building inside her chest.
“It’s going to take me a minute,” Jared called through the door.
Neither of them said a word as they heard metal and wooden crates tossed outside, emphasizing the silence in the small square room.
Callum’s dark eyes hooded with thick brows. He held perfectly still like he did when he was pissed and didn’t want to torch the world with his anger. The muscles in his jaw drew taut, as did the air between them.
“Say something,” Jillian demanded.
For a desolate heap of seconds, he didn’t move. The minute stretched to two.
Jillian rolled sideways out of his arms and flipped onto her stomach. The room tilted and shimmied beneath her palms. “Shit.” Her stomach pitched back the first course. She hated puking more than she hated stitches or almost any other horrible thing in the world. The muscles in her neck contracted, refusing the package and returning it to the sender. A gag riddled the room.
“God, I hate when you do that. Just puke and get it over with.” Callum braced her middle with his arm and pulled her hair from her face.
“No.”
“Stubborn.”
“We’ve been over that.” She sucked in air through her nose and eased it through clamped lips. “It’s what got us here to begin with, remember?”
“I know. I’m processing. It’s just—”
The door opened. “Is she going to puke? If so, I can come back.” Jared waffled in the doorway.
“She is not,” Jillian assured herself as much as she did Jared.
“Good. The doc’s going to be in your room any minute now.” Jared stepped closer.
“I’ve got her.” Callum lifted her off the floor and into the cradle of his arms. The urge to hurl hit her hard and fast. “Look at me.” She did as he asked, unable to disappoint him even in her whirl of disgust. He didn’t say anything more, but it was enough. The knot in her throat receded.
“I don’t need a doctor,” she insisted.
Callum’s stony gaze flipped her stomach in a whole new way.
“I know what you need, Jillian.”
8
“It’s swelling to the outside, which means a nice fat goose egg for a couple of days. Your pupils are slightly dilated, and you lost consciousness.” The fairly muscled and tall Indian doctor packed his stethoscope and thermometer into his bag as he spoke. “You have a mild concussion, but nothing to be overly concerned about as long as you take care for the next two to three weeks.”
No more bumps to the head. Callum would see to that for her, a hell of a lot better than he had tonight. If the asshole had been wielding a knife or a gun, Jillian could have been… His fists ground into the mattress next to the woman who’d caught him completely off guard.
“I want someone waking you every two hours for the next eight. If there are any complications, here’s my cell number.” The doc extended the number to Callum.
“Yes, sir.” He took the card, shoved it in his back pocket, and shook the man’s hand. “Thank you.”
“I’ll see you out.” Jared stepped into the open bedroom doorway and led the way through a small sitting area out the door.
“I’ve been awake for like two days already, and he wants my stolen hours of sleep interrupted,” Jillian grumbled and elbowed the pillows, propping herself up on the headboard.
Jared returned to the room and assessed each of them with a measured gaze.
“I didn’t have anything to do with the warhead’s disappearance.” Jillian sat forward. Her sharp gaze challenged boss man’s right back.
“I know you didn’t.” Jared propped his shoulder on the doorframe. “I’m glad you two were in the restaurant tonight. The virus the hacker left killed the cameras, and the jackass got away, but based on your description, we have a narrowed field of suspects to sift through. We’re cross-referencing all employees with links to the original thieves. Something will shake out soon.”
“What have the teams turned up?” Callum hated waiting, even though he loved the woman he waited with.
“Nothing.” Jared straightened. “This is the shittiest part, the wait, but you know.”
“Yeah, we do,” Callum agreed.
“Jillian.” The boss nodded at the woman Callum was determined to make his, and turned to him. “Take care of her. As soon as we find this warhead, we’ll need her skills.”
He watched Jared retreat, heard the door click, and wondered if he could keep anyone he loved safe. He hadn’t been able to protect Amery and dropped the ball with Jillian today. His girls. How were they? He knew they were safe with Stronghold but without him on the other side of the world.
Jillian wrestled a pillow from behind her.
“Two full days, no naps anywhere, huh?” Callum pulled her forward, removed two smaller pillows from the headboard, and eased her down onto the remaining one.
“None.”
“Well, you have me beat for hours awake in a row.”
“I know.” A smile crooked the corner of her pretty red lips. “You can sleep anywhere; in the commotion of two toddlers or on a HELO about to drop into the mire of war.”
“Remember the time I walked six blocks uphill in the rain because I fell asleep standing on the trolley in San Francisco?”
“I remember convincing Amery to leave you asleep on the trolley and you showing up at the hotel soaked through and pissed.” A sweet chuckle shook Jillian’s chest, drawing his gaze to her full breasts and the way the mounds pressed against the black lace bodice.
“You always were the little devil on her shoulder.”
Jilly’s smile faltered. “You always called me Little Devil.”
“And you used to like it.”
“I used to,” she agreed.
“Amery needed you on her shoulder, in her ear, on her side. She was such an honest, loving, straight-laced person.”
“She was perfect.” Jillian sniffled.
“You know that’s not true.” Callum glared, grabbed her shoulders, and sat her in front
of him.
The spitfire glared right back. “I know, but she—”
“She pleased others more than she did herself out of fear that they’d—we’d—abandon her like her family had. We were better than they were, and she still lived in fear.”
“You were better than they were,” she sneered.
“Goddamnit, Jillian. You broke nobody’s vows.” His fingers sank into her muscled shoulders. “Fantasy isn’t in the contract, and even still, you didn’t act on it. You were her friend, her best friend, and you loved her better than anyone in her life.”
“Except you and the girls.” Jillian argued with the best of them. She never quit, and he loved arguing with her.
“We required things of her. You required nothing. Amery feared abandonment so much, but you showed her how to live. If it hadn’t been for you, she never would have experienced life out of fear for loss. When I called you Little Devil, it was out of praise and gratitude.”
Her smile returned with a wicked slant. “Remember the time you fell asleep holding Amery’s hand in the delivery room?”
“She was pissed.” His grin matched hers. “As she should’ve been.”
“The memories we share are everything, Callum.”
“No.” He shook her too hard, considering her head injury, but she didn’t cower. She never would. “They’re wonderful, special, but they are the past. Today is everything.”
“Today is tomorrow’s memories.”
“What do you want tomorrow’s memories to be?”
9
Callum pulled her so close, Jillian’s breast smashed against his chest. Her head pounded with every frantic beat of her heart, but it faded into the background with all the doubt, all the reasons they couldn’t be together, and all her guilt.
His heart thundered against hers. His dark eyes begged.
She knew exactly what she wanted. Only, she’d never been able to claim it. Here he was offering it up with no strings. Her throat stuck on the word.
You. I want you to be my tomorrow’s memory.
“Jillian, it’s only natural that people develop feelings they never anticipated for the people they love.”
“What?” She choked on the question.
“I’ve loved you forever. You’ve been part of my family since we all realized we finally had one. Now, that’s growing into something else, something more, and I can’t explain it.”
Her heart swelled and cracked clean down the middle into two pieces. He loved her. She had no doubt, but he only loved her because Amery was dead. No doubt she should get the hell over it because the best man she’d ever known wanted her. Could she ever move past that?
Callum tilted her chin up. “Can you explain how you had the fantasy of us coming together in your head for so long without acting on it? I’ve only played with the notion for a few weeks, and it’s all I can do to keep my hands off you.”
“Callum.” His name morphed into a sigh.
“Kiss me, Jillian. Make a new memory with me. One memory and we’ll see where it goes from there.”
She might not be able to overcome all the obstacles between them, but she could make a memory. One tangible experience to replace the wisps and yearnings of her dreams.
Amery fell away.
Jillian’s fingers slid up Callum’s dress shirt. The silky fabric tickled the pads of her fingers until the feel of his unyielding muscle underneath burned the amusement away. Dark shading and the outlines of his massive tattoo bled through the white, adding the real level of danger to the primly dressed man.
She slipped her fingers under the loop of his tie and lifted her gaze to his. Darker than the night, his eyes bore back all the desire and emotion coursing through her at Mach speed. She held him so tightly that he couldn’t get away, even if he’d wanted to.
“I’m not going anywhere, Little Devil.” He whispered the last against her mouth, only inches from his. The steam of his exhale parted her lips.
Pride swelled along with need. It pooled in her belly and eased its way between her legs. Her clit pulsed, readying for the ride to come.
“I wouldn’t let you go, not tonight.” She pulled him down to her mouth.
Her red-stained lips pressed to his. Callum held perfectly still, no longer coaxing her participation but demanding it. He was hers to take if she had the balls to do it. Luckily, she’d been born with a pretty pink pussy—but she’d developed the balls through life’s trials.
Jillian enveloped his lower lip in hers, clamped it between her teeth, and pulled him closer. She dragged her tongue across his soft skin, taunting. A small growl rumbled up his throat. Her throaty sigh reciprocated as she sucked his lip to the tip several times, wishing like hell it was his cock. This wasn’t a damn dream. If she wanted something, all she had to do was take it. She released her hold on his mouth. Callum’s hands held firmly at her back but allowed a hint of air between them.
One inch at a time, she coaxed the tie through the loop until the two ends parted. Callum’s tongue slid across his swollen lip. Her insides quivered. The intensity of his gaze made every dream look like a worthless rendering of his features. He trained it on her, freeing something buried inside her soul, while she methodically unfastened each button on his shirt. Without pause, she continued to his belt buckle and zipper.
She lifted her hand to the sliver of Callum’s skin peeking out from his shirt. The shaking of her hand stole her breath. She was the one with the big brass balls—the one always down to try something new—and recognized her fear for what it was…total and utter anxiety. This wasn’t just some man she was undressing. This was Callum, the man she’d wanted for too long.
“No undershirt?” The stupid question would give her time to process and adjust.
Callum played no games. His passion held, as did his tongue.
Jillian gulped a breath, flattened her palm, and fused it to the center of Callum’s chest. His skin warmed her hand, and the contact gathered force with each thump of his heart. She added another hand and slowly glided them over the smooth plane of his chest to the craggy tops of his shoulders and down his sculpted arms.
She unwrapped him like the most patient kid at Christmas, exploring every dip and rise, every texture and value. He was the prize, the one she’d treasure until her last breath. Only when her touch made him release his grip on her did his fingers slip from her back. His cuffed sleeves dropped, and the rest of his shirt followed onto the bed.
“I’ve seen you without a shirt a thousand times, but…” Emotion clogged her throat.
“You’ve never been the one to take it off me.” Callum pressed his thumb to her chin. He dragged it down her windpipe and over her sternum to the V of her neckline and into her cleavage. “We’re about to do a lot we’ve never done, and I’ll enjoy every fucking minute.”
Her lips parted on a gasp.
“Every sigh.” Callum dipped his thumb behind the tapering lace strap and yanked it off one shoulder and then the other, exposing her breasts. Involuntarily, she gave him the sighs he sought.
“Every moan.” He skated his knuckles over her chest and strummed them over the peak of one nipple. She clamped her lips together. Callum cupped her heavy breasts and molded them with hard, sure strokes. Jillian’s head lolled. The moans rose into the air where they were meant to be.
She interlaced her fingers with his and shared in her own demise.
“You were undressing me, Jillian. No need to stop.”
She pulled her legs under her and sat on her heels. They rubbed dangerously close to her throbbing clit, so she wiggled to get them where she wanted them.
“If you want me to undress you, you’re going to have to stop touching me like that.”
His gaze slid hotly over her body. “From where I’m sitting and watching your hips move, it looks like you’re stealing my job.”
“It’s been my job for a long time,” she panted.
As much as she hated him to stop touching her, Jillian pulled their
hands from her breasts. She tossed his shirt to the floor, wrapped her hand around his scruffy jaw, and pushed. “I wanted to taste you in the back of my throat and all over my tongue.”
“Jesus.” He gripped two handfuls of sheets. Every strikingly developed muscle flexed in his arms and abs, across his shoulders, and dipped down to the open fly of his pants.
Jillian licked her lips, and he watched her work. Two fingers hooked into the band of his boxers. She pulled them back inch by inch. The broad, rich, pink head of his cock threatened to strike. A string of pre-cum dangled between his underwear and the dewy seam.
“Jesus is right. We’re going to have to pray after this.” Jillian gnawed on her lower lip and wrestled his pants and boxers over his big, fine ass and down his massive thighs. She didn’t care what happened to them after they shoved over the edge of the bed. Callum’s long, vein laden penis demanded her attention and her mouth.
Her fingers met silk at the base of his shaft and dragged across it to the plume of his head. She lifted it into the air and encircled the thick column. “Lots of prayers.”
Their gazes met. She needed a signal that this was as earth-shatteringly amazing for him as it was for her, and the look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. When she leaned forward, her nipples grazed the rumpled sheets. She licked away the pooling moisture and rolled it around her tongue.
“You taste better than you did in my dream.”
“I fuck better than I did in your dream too,” he growled.
“Promises, promises.” Her lips bumped into the wet crown as she spoke.
“Feeling is believing.” Callum’s fingers sank into the lace-covered flesh of her upturned ass cheek. The bite hinted at pain, but pleasure flowed lava hot across her skin.
“Yes, it is.” Jillian licked her lips, opened wide, and swallowed him to the back of her throat.
Never Mine: A Base Branch Novella (Titan World) Page 7
