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Screwed

Page 18

by Kelly Jamieson


  “Yes.”

  “We probably have stuff in common.”

  She nodded.

  “I still don’t know how he could have left us. I don’t think I could leave my children. If I had any. But I guess…you never really know what you’ll do in a particular situation until you’re actually in it.”

  “That’s very nonjudgmental of you.”

  He smiled. “Yeah. Thank you, darlin’.”

  Her presence was such a comfort to him. It scared him a little. Because things were getting deeper and deeper with Callie, and he had to be careful. Remembering how much it had hurt when his dad left made him afraid that when things ended with Callie, he might not survive.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cash arrived at his friends Chris and Rachel’s home the next Friday night for their engagement party. He and Chris had been friends since college, along with Beau and, of course, Callie. He’d gone on group dates with the two couples numerous times, although he was pretty sure he’d always been with a different girl each time.

  No wonder Callie thought he was a player.

  He and Chris still played football and hung out together, and Chris and Rachel included him in their parties and weekend outings. But everyone else had coupled up, and since he hadn’t been interested in dating anyone for quite a while, he’d turned down a bunch of their invitations lately. But he felt obligated to celebrate their engagement with them.

  He’d rather be rolling around in a nest of fire ants than at this party, though, since both Beau and Callie were going to be here.

  Fuck.

  He and Callie had talked about this. He knew she didn’t really want to go, either. Chris and Rachel had stayed friends with Beau after the divorce, and Callie hadn’t seen much of them, but she liked them, and it was nice they’d invited her. Their engagement was something to celebrate. And it had been over a year since she and Beau had split, so it was time to move on and be able to see each other in social settings from time to time.

  He got all that.

  He just didn’t get his own reasons for not wanting to go to this party.

  The conflict inside him was eating him up, gnawing at his insides. On the one hand, it felt wrong to be arriving separately from Callie. She should be with him. And yet he knew only too well how crazy that idea was. How wrong. Maybe he’d been able to ignore the guilt that plagued him as he and Callie spent time alone together, but here tonight, with Beau present, the hopelessness of their situation was being shoved in his face.

  He was aiming for fashionably late, hopefully not passing into dickishly tardy, so the party was well underway when Rachel opened the door to greet him.

  “Cash!” She beamed. “Great to see you! Come on in.”

  “You, too, Rachel. Here.” He handed over the expensive bottle of red wine he’d brought.

  “Thank you!”

  “Let’s see the ring. I hope Chris didn’t embarrass himself.”

  Rachel laughed and extended her left hand. “No, I love it.”

  Cash dutifully admired the ring, although it kind of made him wince. Rows and rows of glittering small diamonds surrounded a massive center diamond, and more diamonds crusted the band. “Wow. Chris did okay.”

  He followed Rachel to the great room, where music played and guests chatted in small groups. He immediately spotted Callie talking to her friends Kristy, Charlotte, and Emma in the kitchen. Then he noticed Beau leaning against the long island separating the kitchen from the living space, laughing at something Chris said. Relief expanded inside him, a long breath escaping.

  Okay. Callie and Beau weren’t together.

  Really? He’d actually been worried about that? Why? Callie was clearly over Beau. Whether Beau was over Callie… Hell. He rubbed the back of his neck. That was probably why he was worried. Only now could he admit he’d been dreading walking in and possibly seeing them together.

  Chris looked up and greeted him with a bro handshake. Cash clapped a hand on Beau’s shoulder, since he’d just seen him a few hours ago at the office. Rachel offered him a drink, and he accepted the beer and gulped down half of it at once. Whoa. Better take it easy.

  He caught Callie’s eye and her brief smile, and he smiled in return, turning his attention with difficulty to the conversation Chris and Beau were having about the Astros. He’d much rather watch Callie. She was so damn beautiful. Her hair hung dark and glossy around her shoulders, which were bare in a strappy little red dress, and her smile was big and luminous. He snuck another glance at her, just as she looked at him, and their eyes meeting felt like a voltage spike. His skin heated, and his brain fried. He tried not to sound like an idiot as he made a comment about pitcher Frank Mohan. “He shouldn’t start tomorrow night against the Rangers.”

  “Why not?” Kristy popped into the conversation. “He played great in that last game.”

  “It’s not about how well he’s playing,” Cash replied. His gaze slid to Kristy, and the three women shifted closer to participate in the conversation. “It’s about giving him a rest.”

  He didn’t look right at Callie but noticed that she maintained distance from Beau, sipping the glass of wine she held.

  His gut clenched. As he had so many times over the years, he despised himself for not being able to control his feelings for Callie. He was a shitty friend. He’d been disloyal to Beau and was risking their friendship and their business because he was helplessly in love with her. Surely he was strong enough to stay away from her for the next couple of hours…right?

  “They’ve got six starting pitchers now,” Kristy added, apparently quite the baseball fan. “But that’s not fair to Mohan, Shep, and Gonzales.”

  “Sure it is,” Chris put in, smiling. “They need to start the guy who’s the best match for the other team.”

  Cash’s eyes met Callie’s again with another burst of heat. Her lips quirked at Kristy’s baseball passion. His groin tightened.

  More guests piled into the kitchen, because that always happened at parties, and soon the small space was packed with bodies arguing about the Astros and who their best players were. Somehow Cash found himself next to Callie. His skin tingled at her nearness, aware of her sweet vanilla and sugar scent and her soft skin.

  The noise level in the room escalated, and he and Callie slanted each other glances again. She was close enough to touch, and he couldn’t resist the urge that pulsed inside him. Daringly, he brushed his fingers over her hip. She bent her head, hair falling so he couldn’t see her face. He leaned in closer. “Doing okay, darlin’?”

  She nodded and flashed a fake smile. “Sure.”

  He wanted to slide his arm around her waist and pull her close. The longing to have her near ballooned inside him, pushing at his skin, making it hot and tight, his insides feeling hollow.

  His body tensed when her hand closed over his thigh and squeezed. He pulled in a long breath, but someone was pushing through the crowded kitchen to get to the food set out on the big dining table and they were separated.

  Damn. He headed to the food as well, trying to put distance between himself and Callie, all the while ignoring the burning in his gut and the tightness in his throat. Jesus. All he wanted was to have her by his side, to be able to touch her and put his arm around her.

  Rachel and Chris had had the party catered, and the spread was amazing. Too bad his stomach was so tense he wasn’t sure if he could actually eat anything. He picked up a couple of wings, a chicken finger, and a few shrimp, eyeing the roasted brussels sprouts doubtfully. When did brussels sprouts become cool?

  Rachel set out another platter of veggies and dip.

  “Great food, Rach,” he said.

  “Thanks. It’s from Augustine’s. They do a nice job.”

  He and Rachel caught up on news. He tried to focus, but as she told him the story of how Chris had proposed, he looked over to where he’d left Callie.

  Restless, dangerous longing filled him as he stared. And hoped. And cursed.

  “
So that’s why we’re going to Greece for our honeymoon.”

  He dragged his attention away from Callie and back to Rachel, barely aware of her words. “Nice.”

  He listened to more travel plans, and when he glanced back at Callie, she’d moved, now standing at the far end of the island, and she was talking to… Fuck.

  No, it wasn’t Beau. But some other dude was clearly hitting on her. Cash frowned as he bit into a chicken finger that tasted like cardboard. Who the hell was that? Every muscle in his body tightened.

  He watched Callie laugh and toss her hair back. The guy stared down at her with admiring eyes, moving closer.

  Oh hell no. Something blazing hot surged through him as he watched that asshole flirt with Callie. And she was flirting back, for fuck’s sake! What was that about? Heat boiled in his belly.

  “Excuse me,” he said to Rachel, and she blinked at his abrupt interruption. He strode across the big space, avoiding bodies, homing in on Callie like a target. He stopped next to her and gave her a tight smile. “Hey.”

  Her eyes flickered, but she smiled back. “Hey, Cash. Do you know Jackson?”

  “Nope.” He narrowed his eyes at the other man and thrust a hand out as Callie introduced them, giving the guy’s hand a brutal squeeze. “Good to meet you.” Not.

  They made some stilted small talk until the dude finally sensed Cash’s hostility and excused himself.

  “What was that?” Callie whispered to him, scowling.

  “What?” Cash swallowed a mouthful of beer, the tension in his muscles easing.

  “You were rude to him.”

  “Nah.”

  “Cash.” She gave him a warning look through her eyelashes.

  “Fuck, Callie,” he muttered. “I couldn’t stand watching you flirt with him.”

  “I was not!”

  “Yeah, darlin’, you were.”

  “Well, it didn’t mean anything. I can’t exactly flirt with you.”

  “Goddammit.” He closed his eyes, feeling like hot knives were twisting in his chest.

  “People are looking at us,” she hissed.

  Shit. He swallowed through the baseball lodged in his throat. They couldn’t risk people talking. If anyone thought they were together, they’d jump to the conclusion that it had been Callie who’d cheated on Beau. He couldn’t endanger her reputation like that.

  But need and want and goddamn burning jealousy still throbbed inside him.

  “This is fucked up.” He kept his voice low.

  She pressed her lips together and looked into her wineglass. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” He gritted his teeth. He wanted to claim her as his. Openly. Publicly. Forcefully.

  He caught Rachel eyeing them from the other side of the room. Damn it.

  The hunger simmering inside him roared up into something huge.

  “Follow me to the bathroom,” he said in a low voice. “In a few minutes.”

  He strode down the hall and into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He stood, hands curling into fists in the quiet room, his heart banging. This sucked.

  Would she come? He leaned his ass against the marble vanity and crossed his arms, staring at the fluffy gray bath mat, trying to relax and not feel like a giant dick. His body buzzed with tension.

  A soft knock on the door had his head lifting. He cracked open the door, saw Callie, opened the door wider, and yanked her in. The door clicked shut again, and he hauled her into his arms.

  “Cash.”

  He crashed his mouth down over hers in a hard, desperate kiss. She moaned and wound her arms around his neck, pressing into him, soft breasts against his chest, her thighs against his. He gripped her ass and pulled her tighter against his aching dick.

  Their mouths moved together, tongues licking, both of them making impatient, needy sounds. “God,” Cash muttered, hands sliding over her sweet little ass cheeks. “God, Callie.” The chemistry between them was undeniable, but damn, for him it was so much more, and it was getting harder and harder to keep his distance. He was starving for her, so fucking desperate to own her, he was taking this reckless risk.

  He spun her around and lifted her to the vanity. Her pretty lips parted in a gasp. He shoved her skirt up her thighs, then parted and stepped between them.

  “Cash.”

  “Yep.” He bent his head and opened his mouth on her shoulder, kissing his way to her throat, then lower to the shadow of cleavage revealed by her dress. He licked her skin, and her fingers tightened on his shoulders. “Goddammit, I need to fuck you. You know that, right?”

  “Uh…”

  “Right?”

  “Right,” she breathed. “I know.”

  He wrenched the bodice of the dress down and bared one breast, round and tipped with a hard nipple. “No bra,” he murmured. “Thank Christ.” He licked her nipple and then took it into his mouth, tugging with his lips.

  She hissed out a sound of arousal and hooked her ankles behind him. She arched her back, pushing her breasts out, and he sucked deeper, then grazed her nipple with his teeth.

  “Oh God.”

  He pressed his throbbing erection into her damp softness, and she pulled him tighter with her legs. After he’d spent a few minutes worshipping her sexy tits, he slipped his fingers down between her thighs and gently eased her panties to the side. Wet heat met his fingertips, and a growl rose in his throat. “Oh yeah, darlin’.”

  “I’m aching for you, too, Cash.” She kissed the side of his neck, and her fingers dropped from their grip on his shoulders to work at his belt buckle. “I need you.”

  “Goddammit. I’m going to show you need. I’m going to show you so hard you’ll barely be able to walk out of here.”

  Her gasp inflamed him even more. He yanked his wallet out as Callie opened his pants, found the condom, and ripped it open. Their hands fumbled together as they urgently tried to roll it onto his stiff shaft. He met her eyes as he found her entrance with the head of his cock. Heat flared between them.

  Callie caught her swollen lower lip between her teeth, her eyes warm and slumberous, her cheeks pink. “Do it,” she whispered.

  “Hell yeah.” He pushed inside her tight heat. “Goddamn you feel good.”

  She hung on to his shoulders again, head dropping back, hair hanging low. “Oh yeah. So good.”

  They moved together, fast, urgent, swallowing the greedy noises that rose in their throats, aware of their friends in the house. The risk they were taking adding to the urgency of his desire.

  Their hands gripped each other, and he kissed her jaw, her cheek, her mouth, rubbed his nose alongside hers as he moved inside her, hands on her ass, holding her as he thrust in and out. Their breaths quickened. His balls drew up tight, heat powering through his body. He planted his feet, his pants drooping down over his clenched ass cheeks, thighs flexing.

  “Mine.” He muttered the word against her lips. “Mine, Callie.”

  Christ. He shouldn’t have said that. He couldn’t say that. She couldn’t be his. But merely uttering the words made his chest tighten, and excitement ripped through him.

  “Sorry,” he gasped, knowing she hadn’t come yet. “Fuck, can’t…aw fuck.”

  But her shocked gasp and her body clamping around him made him vaguely aware she was there, too, as pleasure exploded inside him and his cock jerked with wrenching spasms. He fisted her hair in one hand and covered her mouth with his as they both shuddered through a fast, violent climax.

  “I can’t believe we did this.” Callie stroked his neck with her fingertips, still breathing fast.

  Cash’s legs turned to foam rubber. “Jesus.” He rubbed his stubble against her cheek. “Me, either.” Some kind of wild surge of possessiveness had driven him to drag her into the bathroom and take her, mark her as his own. He lifted his head, and with horror saw pink marks on her shoulders and the tops of her breasts, whisker burns and love bites. He closed his eyes. “Please tell me you have a sweater here.”
r />   She dropped her chin to look down at herself. “Oh.” When she lifted her eyes and met his, they stared wide-eyed at each other, and then to his complete relief, she started giggling. “You are such a caveman! I can’t believe I never knew this about you.”

  He chewed his bottom lip, unwilling to tell her he’d never acted like this with any other woman. He’d never gotten in a bar fight over a woman, either. Although he totally would throw down to protect someone if need be. But this…yeah, he was completely fucked up over this woman.

  “I do have a sweater,” she said softly, petting his shoulder through his shirt.

  “Let’s get out of here. We’ve put in an appearance. Admired the rock. Congratulated the happy couple. Let’s go back to my place.”

  “We can’t leave at the same time.”

  “I know. Fuck. I’ll go first. You wait a while.”

  She gave him a slow smile. “Okay.”

  …

  Saturday afternoon a couple of weeks later, Callie and Kristy were at the shop painting. Gallons of white paint sat on drop cloths, and sweat ran down Callie’s face and between her breasts despite the air conditioning. She rolled another coat onto the wall while Kristy used a brush to cut in the edges.

  Callie’s phone buzzed. She grimaced at her paint-spattered hand, wiped it on her shirt, and slid the phone out of the back pocket of her jeans to peer at the screen. “Cash,” she murmured. She answered with a smile and a warm glow in her chest. “Hey.”

  “Hey, darlin’. How’s it going?”

  “Good. We’re getting lots done.” She blew out a breath. “I’m all hot and sweaty.”

  “Just how I like you. Only I like you hot and sweaty and underneath me.”

  She gave a low laugh. “I like that, too.”

  She caught Kristy’s bugged-out eyes and quick frown at her flirty tone. Ulp. She blinked rapidly.

  “You hungry?”

  “Uh…you mean for food?”

  Now he chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I can bring you burgers or sandwiches or something.”

  “Oh, that would be great. And something cold to drink.”

 

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