by Day Leclaire
"Bull. Tell me the real reason."
She licked her lips, looking everywhere but at him. Why wasn't Brutus helping her? Why did he just sit there with that stupid grin on his face? She couldn't tell Julian the truth. He'd get the wrong idea. Or worse, he'd get the right idea. He'd think she—
"Callie!"
She responded instantly to the sharp command in his voice. "Gail told me I was in love with you." She groaned. So much for seals, tape, and locks. So much for pain of death. Telling him the truth felt worse than any death. She sighed. "Gail said I was making cow eyes at you, and if I didn't cut it out she'd..."
"She'd what?" he prompted quietly.
"She'd tell you and Maudie." Callie bowed her head, her words whisper-soft. "She said it was wrong for me to feel anything but sisterly affection for you."
A moment of silence followed and she couldn't resist a quick peek upward. Watching Julian's sudden grasp of the situation was like watching a light come on. She could almost see him replaying the events of the past several weeks in his mind, see him turning them over, analyzing them, and realizing at last what they meant. His eyes darkened to ebony and shone with a strange gleam.
She waited in dread for him to laugh, or worse, pity her. She'd never felt so brutally exposed. But the teasing remarks she expected never came. To her surprise, a warm, lazy smile spread across Julian's mouth. She inhaled, recognizing the ardent glow of desire in his gaze. It did peculiar things to her breathing.
Julian spoke in a rough-edged voice. "You and I were 'steps' for all of five minutes. I may have treated you like a sister, but only because I would have gotten my head handed to me if I didn't. My head, and several other parts, all of which I preferred to keep attached to my body." He paused for a beat. "Should I assume you didn't feel sisterly affection for me during the brief time we were 'steps'?"
"Not exactly."
He leaned in. "And what about now?"
"Now?"
She didn't respond and he released her wrist, his hand trailing up her arm to cup her face. He pulled her closer. "What if I told you I'm not interested in siserly affection? What if I said my present feelings for you bear no relationship to how brothers or sisters, exes or even second cousins, twice removed, feel?"
Callie trembled beneath his gentle hold, struggling to think straight. She didn't dare read more into his statement than the words themselves. Hadn't she made that mistake before? Of course he didn't feel like a relative. He wasn't one. They'd been briefly related through an accident of marriage—with accident being the predominant word.
He stroked his thumb along her bottom lip, the volatile touch causing prickles of lightning to dance across her skin. She forced back a moan. She had to keep her head. She couldn't let her guard down for even an instant. If she did... He'd have her shirt off again, and her bared to his gaze. To his touch.
"Talk to me, Callie. Don't be shy." The way he said her name did strange and wonderful things to her equilibrium. "What if I told you that I'm attracted to you? What would you say then? I mean, why the hell else would I have kissed you the way I did on the raft?"
She shook her head. He didn't mean it. He couldn't mean it. Yet the hint of passion deepening his voice told a different story. He traced her jawline with his index finger and a minute shiver shook her. Nervously she licked her dry lips.
It never failed. All he had to do was touch her, and she was helpless. Totally helpless. She wanted so much to believe him, to give in to her natural inclinations. But she refused to make a fool of herself again. This time he'd have to explain how he felt, and in words that couldn't be mistaken.
"You say 'what if,' Julian." She struggled to sound cool and detached. "What ifs are just fantasies. They're pleasant to dream about, but they're not real." Her eyes met his and she became lost in their dark velvety depths. Perhaps she'd settle for fantasies, after all, if it meant sharing them with Julian.
He shoved his glasses onto the top of his head and his expression turned serious, his face carved into lines of determination. She noticed something else reflected there, as well, something she found more difficult to understand, something beyond her realm of experience.
"This is real, Callie, not a fantasy." Julian leaned toward her and cupped her face again, his breath mingling with hers. "What I'm feeling, right this instant, is as real as you and me." His intense gaze held her. "Can you deny it?"
Any doubts she might have had were thrust to one side. "No."
The word trembled between them, and he whispered her name, pulling her into his arms. Then there were no words, only sensation.
He didn't immediately kiss her. His mouth hovered over hers until she felt him with every nerve in her body. Just when she thought she couldn't bear another moment without his touch, his mouth covered hers. She slid her arms around his neck, her lips parting beneath his, giving to him with all her heart.
She loved him, she realized in that instant. For more than a year she'd tried to deceive herself, but no more. She wouldn't hide from her newfound knowledge any longer. Whatever Julian's true feelings for her, she was now committed to him.
She didn't have a clue where this would lead. She hoped it would end the way all good fairy tales ended. But this wasn't a fairy tale, and she had to prepare herself for the possibility that in Julian's world "once upon a time" might not lead to "happily ever after."
Fair enough. If it didn't, she'd take what ever he had to offer. Take it gladly and give everything she had in return. Something of her feelings must have shown on her face. Without a word, he swept her into his arms and carried her from the study and upstairs to his room. Late afternoon sunshine streamed in the window, burnishing the bed with a reddish gold glow. He lowered her to the mattress and joined her there, trailing his hands through the strands of her hair.
"The light brings out the red in your hair. It's beautiful."
She returned the favor, winding a short, stubborn curl around her finger. "Your hair is so dark, the sun loses its way whenever it shines on you."
"Callie... I want to make love to you."
"Abrupt and to the point. How Julian of you." She smiled. "It also works out really well, since I want to make love to you, too."
A frown touched his brow and though she attempted to smooth it away, it remained. "I need to make sure you're not doing this out of misplaced grief."
Of all the things she'd expected him to say, this came last on the list. In fact, it didn't even hit the list. "Of course I'm not, Julian. Why would you think that?"
"Because of what you said the first time we kissed."
She struggled to remember, a difficult proposition since embarrassment colored her memory of that night. It was her turn to wrinkle her brow. "I remember you attempted to comfort me and I totally misread the situation. And I remember kissing you. I particularly remember a certain amount of deliciousness, followed by an even greater amount of mortification. But I can't remember ever telling you I was kissing you out of grief."
"You told me you were an emotional wreck because of Maudie. You were such a wreck your emotions got all confused. And that's why you kissed me."
Heat flooded her face, the memory returning in all its hideous detail. That wasn't all she'd said. She'd also claimed she'd rubbed herself all over him because her emotions were so confused. She closed her eyes. "Could you maybe not stare at me while I tell you this next part."
"Confession time?"
She nodded. "You're still staring."
"How do you know? Your eyes are closed."
"Because I'm still blushing. That means you're still staring."
"Okay, my eyes are closed."
She peeked at him. They weren't closed at all. Even worse, he grinned down at her. "Liar."
"I'm guessing I'm not the only one. Shall I assume you kissed me for some reason other than grief?"
"You may assume anything you please," she offered grandly. "I will say, I don't normally ease my sadness by kissing. I ease sadness by eating c
hocolate."
"I believe you compared my kisses to chocolate."
"There's no comparison." She cleared her throat, obligated to admit, "Your kisses taste much better than any chocolate I've ever eaten."
His smile faded, replaced by a warmth and passion more blistering than the spill of sunshine. "Tell me why you want to make love to me. Explain so there's no more misunderstandings."
"I can tell you, quite definitively, it's not out of grief," she whispered.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
She linked her hands behind his neck. "Does that mean you're going to make love to me now?"
Chapter 7
Rule #41:
Habits are like fleas on a dog.
You can scratch,
but real relief only comes with flea powder.
To Callie's delight, he kissed her, tracing her curves and proving how perfectly they locked against his angles. "Yes, sweetheart. I'm definitely going to make love to you."
She smiled tremulously. "I'd like that." She caught her lower lip between her teeth. "I should warn you, I'm not quite sure what to do, or how to do it."
He hesitated. "Should I assume that's because you've never made love to anyone before?"
She nodded.
"Are you sure you want to?" he asked gently.
"Very, very sure."
Reaching past her, he opened the drawer to his bedside table and removed a condom. Then he kissed her with heartbreaking tenderness. "In that case, there is no wrong way." He cupped her breast, his movements slow and careful, yet incredibly arousing. "Just whatever feels right to you."
She shivered beneath the slow caress. "Maybe fewer clothes?"
"That would be a good start. That would be an excellent start."
The sun disappeared behind a cloud, draping the room in soft shadow. While she helped Julian out of his clothes, he helped strip away hers. Hands met, clashed, then worked together. Lips met, clung, then parted. Bared limbs brushed, ached, and brushed again. When the last scrap of clothing vanished, the clouds parted and the sun beamed down to burnish them in brilliance.
Julian guided Callie's hands to his chest and held them there, the steady beat of his heart captured within her palm. And then he left her to explore. Her fingers splayed across his chest, lingering, stroking, dancing, building from warmth to heat. And he gave himself up to her. It brought her such joy to give him pleasure, to allow herself to move from hesitant to bold.
This time when she followed the roadmap of hair and hit the intersection, she hung a down and cruised straight onward. No stoplight slowed her. No roadblocks prevented her hitting the on-ramp. She gathered him in her hands, amazed by how such a simple thing elicited such a profound reaction. He closed his eyes, his fists clenched, clearly battling to remain in control. It didn't surprise her when he gathered her into his arms and rolled with her, coming down on top with her caged protectively in his embrace.
It was his turn to explore and he took his time, using exquisite care to bring her pleasure. Every stroke caused her muscles to loosen, shoved her closer to something that married the physical with the emotional and left her shaking with need. She opened her eyes to stare up at him and sunshine blazed across them, a benediction of heat and light.
He kissed her breasts, cupping their weight while he teased the nipples with teeth and tongue. Her breath quickened and heat seared her, settling at the junction between her legs. As though aware of it, he cupped her there, stoking the fire. Thought shattered. Words became an impossible burden. She could only open herself and pray he understood how desperate her need had grown.
She heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper. Then, gently, tenderly, he cupped her bottom and mated their bodies, one to the other. All her life, she'd believed chocolate to be the best life had to offer—until she kissed Julian. Now, she realized this was even better. This joining. This rapture. This moment of utter intimacy and radiance.
She gathered him close, moving with him, finding the rhythm of perfection. "So much better than chocolate," she gasped.
He drove her ever upward, higher and higher, yet. Taking her farther than she thought possible, toward some distant peak she was desperate to scale. When they finally hit it, they hung there for an endless moment, teetering on the brink. And then the shattering came, throwing them up and over into a breathless tumble toward oblivion.
With the tumble came an inescapable realization. Not only did she love Julian, but she loved him with a passion she never thought possible. And whether he came to love her or not, she would always be grateful for this time together. Grateful she'd given herself to him. Grateful he'd been her first lover. Grateful she could know the fullness of love.
* * *
Julian held Callie tight in his arms and stared up at the fading flickers of sunlight painting the ceiling.
Something had happened.
Something unexpected had happened.
Something unexpected had happened that he didn't understand. That defied logic and organization and expectation. Something more than mere sex. Somehow, it had changed him and he couldn't figure out how or why.
He'd had sex before. Hell, he'd been engaged before. Presumably that meant he'd been in love. But what he felt then had no bearing on what he felt now. Only weeks ago he'd spouted off to Brad about marriage and commitment and—God help him—love.
They weren't logical. They weren't part of his plan. He didn't want those things in his life because they were traps that stole time and energy and resources, all of which he needed to put into his business. Emotional commitment screwed with his priorities, forcing him to put unwanted artificial bonds ahead of work.
Callie stirred against him and his hold gentled, grew more protective. "Julian?" she murmured.
"I'm right here, sweetheart. I've got you."
Of course, what he felt for Callie wasn't love. Fondness—sure. Attraction—definitely. Lust—beyond anything he'd ever experienced before. He'd simply have to make all that clear to her. Explain she'd need to stick to his rules and not interfere with his way of life.
She snuggled closer. "It's so odd. I can't believe how sleepy I am. I can barely keep my eyes open. Happy. But sleepy."
He smiled down at her, tracing the pattern of dappled sunshine gilding her shoulder. "Sleep as long as you want. I'll keep you safe."
Callie was an intelligent, reasonable woman. She understood about work and priorities. And when the summer ended and they went their separate ways, they'd part friends, just like always. For some reason, he realized he was frowning at the idea of their going their separate ways.
"Julian?" His name escaped on a whisper, slurred with sleep.
"Still right here," he whispered back.
"I love you." The confession came as soft as a summer breeze.
Somewhere in the few inches of space between her mouth and his ears the breeze became a tornado, ripping his life apart and changing everything.
Changing it in a way that shattered logic and left an unsettling emotion behind. One he'd never truly experienced before... until this moment.
* * *
Callie woke to a room filled with twilight. She stretched, delighting in the delicious friction of his Julian's parts abrading hers. He groaned, scooping her closer and abrading her some more. It might have led to more interesting types of abrading if her stomach hadn't chosen that moment to growl.
He chuckled. "Hungry?"
"Starving."
"But not for me, I assume."
She smiled tenderly. "Always for you," she confessed. "But I wouldn't object to ordering pizza in addition to a delicious slice of Julian on the side."
"If pizza doesn't involve moving, I'm all for it."
"It involves moving, so just suck it up."
"You are a cruel and heartless woman."
"True. I am also a hungry woman."
Julian sat up and put on his glasses. Glancing at her, he tumbled her back into his arms and gave her a thorough kiss, one tha
t left her trembling in reaction. If she weren't so hungry, she'd be tempted to pin him down and have her wicked way with him. Maybe after pizza. Okay, definitely after pizza.
He planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. "And because you're so cruel and heartless, you can order the pizza. You can use my new cell phone."
She shot him a sly look. "Fine. I'll order, you pay. But, if Cory's the one who delivers it, make sure you give him a generous tip."
Oops. She probably shouldn't have said that. Even in the dim light she saw a frown crease his brow. He pulled back slightly, which was a darned shame. "You mean, in addition to the twenty bucks you bribed him with this morning?"
She cleared her throat. "It was ten bucks. Ten for him, ten for Donna. But, right. In addition to that."
"Callie—"
She rushed into speech. "I'm sorry, Julian. At the time, it seemed the only way to keep them working."
He eased off her. "By using bribery? As a schoolteacher, you should know better than that."
She shrugged, missing the warmth of his embrace. "Perhaps I could have handled it differently. But I'm not sure how. They came to me. They were upset. They were just about to quit and I didn't want that to happen. So I—"
"Bribed them." To her profound disappointment, he left the bed. "I shouldn't have to explain the flaw in that reasoning to you. But I will."
"Somehow I suspected you would."
He pretended not to hear. "First, bribery never works. All it does is teach greed."
"Farkle's wasn't a bribe?"
He shook his head. "No. It wasn't. Showing your appreciation for services rendered is not the same as paying people off so they'll work in the first place."
Callie thought about it and nodded. After all, he was right. "Okay. I see your point."
He snagged his briefs off the floor. Somehow he managed to pull them on while ticking points off on his fingers. But then, Julian always had excelled at multitasking. "Good. Second. If they'd been working for anyone else and tried this stunt, they'd have been fired on the spot. You should have sat them down and had them draft a list of their complaints and demands, then come to me and present their grievances in a well thought out, adult manner. That way they could learn to compromise when, ultimately, I didn't give in to all their requests."
