by Cathryn Fox
Sweet baby Jesus.
“Wait,” he says. “Something woke me up. Were you trembling, or talking in your sleep?”
“Just a dream,” I say. “I’m okay now.”
“Maybe more like a nightmare,” he states, but he’d be wrong. The dream was erotic, the nightmare happened when I was wide awake, thinking Brad was next to me. He makes a move to get up, and I’m instantly disappointed. He’s a big guy, but he radiates comfort and safety.
“Callan,” I say softly, and tentatively reach for him. I pull my hand back, and he glances at it, aware I was reaching for him.
“Yeah.”
“Do you think…um…you could stay for a little bit?”
He goes perfectly still for a moment and I berate myself. What a stupid thing to ask. I shouldn’t be asking the man for his comfort. I shouldn’t be asking him for anything. He’s dealing with enough in life as it is.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” I begin, but stop when he puts his hand on my arm.
“I can stay,” he says and drops back down, turning to his side. He goes up on one elbow and rests his head in his palm. “Were you having a nightmare?”
“Actually, the nightmare was when I was awake. I felt a movement beside me and for a brief second I thought it was Brad.” I shift beneath the sheet and that’s when I realize I’m dressed only in my bra and underwear. Callan’s clothes were so big on me, I was worried I’d strangle myself in my sleep. I sink deeper into the bedding and tug the sheets to my neck, leaving my arms outside the bedding, braced at my sides.
“That frightened you, didn’t it?” he says, like he’s completely aware of the life I lived with Brad.
“A little,” I say. I’m not sure what’s making me open up. Perhaps it’s the late hour, or maybe the fortress around my heart is still asleep. Or perhaps it’s simply because this is Callan, a damaged man, but a guy I can trust. He’s so kind and sweet, so easy to open up to. “Things weren’t great between us.”
“I figured as much. I’m sorry.” He reaches out, lightly runs a finger along my arm, and a small quiver goes through me. His brow bunches with worry. “Did he hurt you, Gemma?”
A little moan I have no control over catches in my throat and Callan’s gaze flashes to mine. “Not really.”
“What does not really mean?” he asks, a dark edge to his voice.
“He never hit me or anything. He was aggressive and threatened me, and sometimes…”
“Sometimes what?” he asks, moving even closer, until I feel his warm breath on my face.
“Sometimes, I don’t know, I guess in bed, he could get a little rough.”
“You don’t like it rough,” he says, a statement, not a question. I get it, some women like it rough, I’m just not one of them, and I’m not sure Brad’s brand of rough is what any woman would like anyway. It was almost…possessive, like it held a deeper warning.
“It actually scared me. He was pretty intimidating and domineering, at times.”
“He was a fucking bully.”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve voiced this?” he asks, but he’s not victim-blaming here, like some do. Some would say it’s my fault. I didn’t fight enough, or stand up to him. It’s easy for them to say it. It’s different when you’re in the situation.
“I did.”
“I’m sorry, Gemma. Your ex was a real douche-bag.”
“Yeah, he was,” I say a bit breathless as his naked leg touches mine.
“I’m glad you found the courage and left him. I know that’s not easy.”
“You do?” I say, but yeah, of course he does.
“I’m a first responder. I come across many different situations in my line of work.”
My heart beats a little fast, and honestly, I feel a bit lighter sharing my painful past with Callan. “Thanks for understanding,” I say. “I don’t think most really understand.”
His finger trails higher, a gentle sweep to my shoulder. He draws tiny circles, and his tender touch travels through my body, settling deep between my legs. My God, what is going on here?
“I’d love to have five minutes with him. Let him pick on someone his own size.”
“I don’t want you involved, Callan. It’s over. I’ll face him this weekend, and make sure he knows it. We won’t ever be alone, and my family will be there. I’ll be safe.”
“Okay,” he says and shifts closer. I don’t flinch, but I do suck in a fast breath.
“I’d never do anything to hurt you, Gemma, physically or emotionally.”
“I know,” I say my voice coming out a little squeaky. “I trust you, Callan. You’re one of the good guys.”
“I’m glad you trust me,” he says, his voice an octave lower. “And just so you know, if I was ever going to touch you, I’d be gentle. But I’d never touch you if you didn’t want me to,” he says and as I take in the heat in his eyes, I understand he’s asking me a question.
Oh. My. God. Callan is asking if I want him to touch me.
I turn on my side, and he removes his hand from my arm. “If I was ever to touch you, I’d want you to want it, too,” I say. “I’d want you to like it.”
He nods, and takes a deep breath. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been touched, Gemma. Since Zoe. I’ve not…I haven’t been able…I’m not sure I…”
He doesn’t finish, so I try to fill in the blanks. “I know, me neither,” I say, and my heart beats faster, my brain hardly able to believe what I’m about to suggest. “Maybe we should just try and see.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“I can touch you, and you can let me know if you want it. Let’s just be open and honest with each other.”
“I like that idea,” he says and as he gazes at me, I get that he likes me, too. Good, because I like him, the warmth between my legs is a damn good indication of that.
“If I touched you here, would you want it, or like it?” I reach out and put my hand on his hot chest, and he sucks in a fast breath as his heart thunders beneath my palm.
“Yeah, I like that,” he says, sounding as breathless as I do. My blankets shift a little, exposing the lace on my bra. “My turn,” he says, and his throat makes a sound when he swallows. He looks into my eyes and that’s when I get that he’s waiting for a response, asking permission, and my heart wobbles a little. My God, he is such a sweet guy.
“Okay,” I say.
He reaches out, and puts his finger on the curve of my jaw. His eyes meet mine and I answer the question lingering there.
“I like it,” I say.
“How about this,” he slides his finger down my throat, in a slow, tender way that teases all my erogenous zones. “So far so good?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, my voice nothing more than a needy whisper.
He continues downward, my skin on fire everywhere he touches, burning in a way it has never burned before, and I like it. I like it a lot. His hand comes to rest at the top of my bra, and he toys with it, lightly running the fabric between his big fingers.
I wet my mouth, my throat so dry you’d think I was lost in the Sahara, but no, right now, I’m just a little lost in Callan.
I widen my fingers, and move them over his flesh, going lower to examine the hard muscles of his abdomen. “Hmm, nice,” I say and an adorable smile that turns me a little inside out pulls up the corners of his kissable mouth.
“I think I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying it’s nice. But I like that you’re enjoying touching me, too.”
I grin. “So you’re saying you like this, then?” I ask, as I take pleasure in all his hills and valleys.
“Oh yeah.”
“Good.”
My hand stills, indicating it’s his turn and he chuckles lightly. He trails his finger lower, dragging it between my breasts and before I even realize what I’m doing, I arch upward, my nipples hardening, aching for attention.
“I like that,” I say.
“Me too,” he murmurs, his gaz
e latched on my breasts.
I move my hand. Is he completely naked next to me, or does he sleep in his boxers? I guess I’m about to find out. I inch downward, but my fingers stop when an elastic band prohibits any further exploration. I linger around the band and just lightly brush my fingers over his stomach.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, and he slides one big palm over my breasts, taking me into his hand. He massages gently, and lightly rubs his thumb over my aching bud.
“Yes,” I hiss, and his breathing changes, becomes a little heavier.
I want to touch him as much as I want him to touch me. With a new kind of want zinging through me, I slide my hand into his boxers, and wrap my palm around his big cock and give him a squeeze.
“Jesus, Gemma,” he says with a rough breath.
“You like that, Callan?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I like it too,” I say.
His hand slides around my back, and he unhooks my bra to free my breasts. “I’m wondering about something,” he says, and I stiffen. Is he having second thoughts? If he is, his brain is telling him one thing, but the cock my hand is wrapped around is telling an entirely different story.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Would you mind if I used something else to touch you?”
“Such as?”
“I was thinking I could use my mouth.” He gently squeezes my nipple and my sex clenches. “Right here, specifically,” he says. My pulse jumps in anticipation, giving me away. “I’m wondering if you’d like that."
“I guess we won’t know until you try,” I say, and take in his hungry grin as his head dips. I sink into my pillow as his hot mouth closes around my nipple and with one hand on his cock, lightly pumping up and down, I slide the other hand around his head, letting him know in no uncertain terms how much I love what he’s doing. His tongue swirls over my bud, and the way he’s touching me, like my pleasure is paramount, warms me from the inside out. This…right here…is how I’ve always wanted to be touched, but with my ex, sex was for his pleasure, hard and fast and almost…violent.
“Callan,” I moan, and he moves to the other breast, giving it the same amount of blissful attention. He spends a long time on my flesh and my lips tingle, wanting to kiss him, to taste him on my tongue.
His head lifts and he shifts. My hand slides from his boxers as he settles himself on top of me. His big palm smooths my hair back from my forehead and intense blue eyes lock on mine.
“Do you know what we’re doing here, Gemma?” he asks, his gaze roaming my face, worry mingling with arousal.
“I think we do,” I say, to put him at ease. “Two friends just being there for each other. It’s nothing more than that.”
“I don’t have any more to give,” he says. “I don’t want to hurt you or let you think there could be more.”
My heart squeezes for all this man has lost. “I love how honest you are, Callan.” I put my hand on his cheek, and his warmth wraps around me like a favorite blanket. “I want to be with you tonight. Like this. It just feels right, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, but I shouldn’t…” A pained look rips across his face as he briefly looks away. “I shouldn’t want. I don’t des—”
His words fall off, so I say, “I’m afraid to be with anyone.”
“You’re not afraid of me, though.”
“No, never, but it’s okay, Callan. We don’t have to.”
There’s hunger back in his eyes when they lift to mine. “I want to be with you, and it does feel right, Gemma.”
“We’re just giving each other what we need tonight. No tomorrows.” I part my lips in invitation as he nods.
“I’m going to kiss you now. Do you think you’d like that?” he asks, his playfulness back.
I slide my hands around his head. “No,” I say, and he stills. “I think I’d love that.” His low moan reverberates around us as he closes his mouth over mine. His lips are soft, gentle at first, a slow introduction to let me get used to the feel. I moan and slide my tongue into his mouth to find his and a deep growl rips from his throat. My heart speeds up. I like that I can do that to him, that he chose me to trust, just like I chose him.
He kisses me with hunger, passion, a man starved of a woman’s touch for so long, and it makes me want to give him everything he’s lacking. I widen my legs, my knees up in the air as his hard cock presses against my center.
“I like everything about this,” I murmur when he breaks the kiss. He presses hot, open mouthed kisses to my cheek, sliding lower to bury his face in the hollow of my neck. I might not have seen this man in a while, but the intimacy between us, the honesty and trust is unlike anything I’ve ever before experienced. How is it possible that I feel so close to this man, so fast?
I’m not sure, but I’m going to revel in it, let it fill the hole in my soul, until past hurts are just that…hurts from the past. He slides down my body, his teeth nipping at the lace on my underwear.
“I’m a little disappointed,” he says, and my heart stops beating, until I catch the smirk on his face.
“Oh?”
“I love you in these sexy little panties, but I was hoping to see my clothes on you.”
“You were?”
“Yeah, I don’t know why? Strange, huh?” he says and slips a finger into the band, running his big rough finger back and forth, back and forth, and I almost cry out, yell at him to touch my clit like that, but I don’t want to rush things. I want to take tonight slow, and savor the sweetness in each moment.
“If you like I could get up and get dressed for you.” I pretend to move and his growl stops me. I stifle a chuckle.
“Now let’s not go crazy,” he teases.
“You’ll be happy to know I’m not disappointed.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“I have no desire to see you in my clothes.”
His laughter vibrates me, and I sink deeper into the mattress as it strokes my body. I honestly don’t ever remember laughing during sex, ever drawing it out with fun, sexy banter. A girl could get used to this kind of sex.
“I promise you won’t have to worry about that. Not that there is anything wrong with it, but it’s just not my thing.”
“You’re saying I won’t find you in my panties, then,” I tease.
“Well, I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say that.” A thrill goes through me as he dips his fingers into my panties. He parts me with his fingers and lightly strokes my clit. I moan.
“I like your version of being in my panties better,” I say.
“Glad you like it.” He runs his finger along the length of me. “I like it too.”
“Yeah,” is all I manage to get out as my thoughts trail off, unable to focus on anything but the pleasure in his touch.
“Want to know what I’d like more?”
“Yes,” I say and lift my head to see him. His eyes are completely focused on my panties. “Tell me. No, wait?”
“Wait?”
“Don’t tell me, show me.”
He exhales. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He nips at my panties again, dragging them lower on my hips, just enough to expose my damp sex. “You are so damn wet for me,” he says.
“Please touch me,” I say, and shock myself. I’m not a girl to open up and ask for things during sex, but with Callan, it’s different. This safe space he’s created for me has allowed me to relax.
“I’m going to touch you, Gemma. I’m going to do whatever you want me to do.”
“I like that. Here’s the thing, though. There’s something I’m wondering about, too.”
He brushes his thumb over my clit and my eyes roll back as I let loose a moan. I love the freedom to just be myself. I try to widen my legs, but my panties prevent it.
“What’s that?”
“I was wondering if you’d like it if I put your cock in my mouth?”
“Jesus, Gemma,” he growls. “Fuck yeah, I’d like that. But first, this sweet pussy needs my tong
ue.”
“Oh, yes, you’re right. It does.”
He chuckles against my belly, and lowers his mouth until his tongue is on my clit. I cry out and lift my hips from the bed, grinding against his face, completely shameless in my needs. He swirls his tongue, then flattens it, and presses it against me.
“My God,” I cry out, and go up on my elbows to watch him. The deep sound in his throat is a good indication that he likes what he’s doing. My sex clenches when he slides one thick finger inside me, and his head lifts to gauge my reaction. My heart tumbles a little, appreciating the check-in. “Yes,” I say, and he moves his finger in and out of me as he closes his mouth around my clit and sucks on it, hard. “Callan,” I cry. “Yes, like that.”
His finger works a miracle inside me, touching me in places no man has ever touched before, and before I even know what’s happening, heat rushes through me, all pleasure centered on the hot spot between my legs, and I let go. Completely. Liquid pleasure pours out of me, and he releases his hold on my clit to lap at me.
“Jesus,” he murmurs, and my throat is so tight with happiness, that he likes what he’s doing to me, I can barely speak. “I love the taste of you,” he murmurs, and continues to lap at me with the soft blade of his tongue.
When I can finally find my voice again, I say, “I bet I’d love the taste of you, too.”
His head lifts, his eyes raging with hunger when they latch on mine. “You want to find out?”
“Yeah.”
5
Callan
With her panties around her thighs—looking so goddamn sexy—I go back on my knees. I pet her lightly until her body stops spasming. Cheeks hot and flushed, she shifts on the bed, and reaches for me with greedy hands. I let her catch me and she tugs me toward her. A sly grin on her face, she gives a playful push until I’m flat on my back. Want dances in her eyes as her gaze slides lower over my body, the visual caress like a soft stroke to my cock. It throbs, grows another inch and tents my boxers.
“You want to see me in your clothes huh?” she teases.
