“Because the little things aren’t little to me, either. And I didn’t know—”
“Don’t stop now.” I smile and cup her cheek in my hand, while the other brushes through her soft hair.
“I didn’t know that the little things were so big until you.”
I take a deep breath, so fucking relieved. I tip my forehead down to hers and close my eyes, reveling in the feel of her against me.
“I don’t know where this is going—” My voice is a hoarse whisper. “—but I want to find out.”
“Me too.”
My hands glide down her back to her ass, and I grip the globes and lift her easily. “Wrap your legs around me.”
I head for the stairs, moving fast, making her giggle. “What was wrong with the parlor?”
“Nothing, and I’ll have you there eventually, but once we get started, we’re not going to stop for quite some time and I want you to be comfortable.” With my eyes locked on hers, I push inside my bedroom. But instead of taking her to the bed, I brace her up against the back of the closed door and hike her skirt up over her hips.
“It’s so convenient that I don’t wear underwear,” she pants as her hands gather my shirt and urge it over my head.
“Thank you,” I say with a smile and I just can’t stand it anymore. It’s as though my lips haven’t touched hers in years as I take her mouth with mine, kissing, licking, biting. My cock is ready to burst through my jeans, but I don’t want to move from this spot. She’s grinding against me, with her legs locked around me like a vice, her hands are in my hair, gripping at my shoulders, scratching down my back, as if she doesn’t know where she should touch first, and I love every bit of it.
“In me,” she says, her voice heavy with urgency.
“I’ll get there.”
“Declan.” She frowns, but I smile and nibble my way down her neck.
“Yes, sugar, that’s my name, and I’m the one in control here. I’m going to fuck you blind, but I’m going to do it in my own way on my own timeline.” I bite her collarbone, and then growl in frustration because she still has too many clothes on, so I spin and carry her to the bed and strip her down as she manages to help me out of my jeans and makes my eyes cross as she jacks my cock.
“Put your hands on the headboard.” She’s on her back now in the middle of the bed, and if she keeps touching me, this will be over way too fast.
“I want to touch you.”
I cock a brow. “I didn’t ask.”
She cocks a brow right back at me, which makes me want to bark out a laugh, but I keep my face sober, watching her until she complies, holding on to the headboard.
“Keep them there.”
“Yes, sir,” she says primly.
“I’ll spank you for that,” I mutter and let the smile show when she replies with “I hope so.”
I take a minute to just take her all in. She’s spread before me like a feast, and I’m going to fucking devour every inch of her.
I start with kissing down her chest and over to each nipple, making them hard and wet, then blow on them. Callie squirms under me and sighs in delight.
“So responsive,” I whisper before placing wet kisses down her belly, gently tugging on the navel piercing with my teeth. I spread her legs wide and grin in satisfaction at the sight of her perfect, glistening pussy. “You’re already wet.”
“Are you sure?” she asks. “Maybe you should double check.”
“I am a thorough man,” I reply and settle in to taste her. I lick her from anus to clit, and back down again. Her hips buck and she grabs my hair in her fist. I back away and glare up at her. “I said keep your hands above your head.”
“Right, like I can do that when you’re doing that.”
“You can do it.” I wait until she complies and then I dive back in. I pull her lips into my mouth and fuck her with my tongue, then lick my way up to her clit and sink two fingers inside her.
“Fucking hell!” she cries out, thrashing on the bed. Her body is flushed and tight, her belly moving up and down as she chases her release.
Suddenly, I flip her over and slap her ass, and with her up in the air, I bury my face in her again, licking, biting, sucking, until I feel the muscles inside her convulse around my fingers. She cries out, the words incoherent, and rides the wave as far as it’ll take her, until she collapses, ass in the air, panting and purring in my sheets.
As she calms, I reach for protection and drag my fingertips up and down her legs, and then just to stir her up again, I lick her from clit to anus and rise up on my knees, guide myself inside her and cover her with my body, bracing myself on the headboard above her, pounding her in earnest.
“Holy shit,” I growl when she tightens around me. “That’s right, baby, come for me again.”
Her back bows, her hands fist in the sheets, and she comes so fucking hard she almost pushes me out. I plant my hand on the small of her back and push against her, letting her milk my cock with her strong muscles, and I’m completely lost to her.
I come hard, shivering, sweating, my mouth pressed to her shoulder. As I breathe through the orgasm and come back to my senses, I wrap my arms around her and lay us on our sides, tangled up in each other.
Mine.
Chapter Seven
~Callie~
Mine.
He said it last night, whispered it actually, as he wrapped himself around me and settled us both in to catch our breath. I’m not sure if he intended to say it out loud.
Not that it matters.
Except, I’m not sure how I feel about it. And frankly, after a night of some of the best sex I’ve had in… ever, I guess it means I’m okay with it.
Because I definitely feel pretty possessive when it comes to him too.
But now it’s the morning after, and historically speaking, we’re not good at this part. Is it going to be awkward? Is he not going to call for a week again, and then act affronted when I’m mad?
Ugh, this part sucks.
He’s not wrapped around me anymore. Thankfully, he’s the same as me in that the snuggles are nice for about three minutes, and then it’s time to roll away and sleep in a position that isn’t as hot as the devil’s house. But the sweet thing is, even in sleep, he keeps tabs on me. His hand on my arm, his foot on my calf. He’s always touching me in some way.
And I like it. It makes me feel safe. I don’t remember the last time someone else made me feel safe. Even my own father loved me, but I didn’t ever dare let my guard down with him.
With Declan, I sleep like a baby. Of course, that could simply be exhaustion.
The man knows his way around the bedroom. And the bathroom and the stairs, if memory serves correctly.
I grin and stretch¸ look over my shoulder at the man himself, then slip from the bed and hunt up my clothes, scattered about the room. The sun is up, but just barely, bathing Declan’s bedroom in that early morning glow.
I pull my bra on, and am just slipping my shirt over my head when I hear, “Where are you going?”
“Home.” I grin at him as push my hands through my hair, shaking it out. “Sorry I woke you.”
“I’m not,” he replies and sits up. His hazel eyes, heavy with sleep, narrow on me as I wince. “What’s wrong?”
I’m sore from you fucking the living hell out of me all night long. Not that I can tell him that. “Just stepped wrong,” I reply, hearing the lameness with my own ears.
“Thanks for—”
“Maybe you should—”
We both speak at the same time, then smile. “You go,” I say.
“Stay,” he simply says and slowly crawls out of bed, gloriously naked, and walks to me. I can’t stop my eyes from roaming up and down his lean, tall body. His tanned skin is smooth over lean muscles, his arms tattooed.
“I can go home,” I murmur, but Declan reaches for me and pulls me against him. His hand slides from my neck to my ass, where he grips onto me firmly.
“I’ve never asked anyo
“I really should—”
“Let me put it this way,” he interrupts and kisses, then bites my lower lip. A moan escapes my lips, damn him. “I’m telling you to stay.”
“You’re bossy,” I whisper.
He simply grins and waits for me to reply, pulling my shirt over my head.
“Since you’re undressing me again, I guess I’ll stay.”
“Good.” He kisses me hard and deep, and I’m suddenly naked again and being led to the bathroom. “You have a shower, I’ll bring up breakfast.”
“Breakfast in bed?” I ask with a laugh.
“The best way to eat breakfast,” he confirms, kisses my nose and then he’s gone and I’m left standing, naked as the day I was born, in the middle of his old bathroom. I turn a circle, taking in the vintage—another word for old—fixtures and tile. This space was probably last renovated in the fifties. I can picture it in my head, the way it should be, with updated double sinks and countertops, subway tile in the shower.
Let’s face it, I’m itching to get my hands on Declan’s house. And it has nothing to do with the man himself, and everything to do with the magnificence of this space.
Okay, it has a little to do with Declan.
My shower is quick. I don’t have to wash my hair, thank God, because that’s a project. I examine my skin, and grin when I see fingerprint bruises on my thighs, where he held my legs up so he could feast on me for what felt like an hour.
The man has mad oral skills.
Then again, so do I, and he hasn’t given me much of an opportunity to show those off yet. That’s going on today’s agenda.
I smile as I finish drying off, hang the towel, and walk out of the bathroom to find Declan sitting on the bed, a tray before him, and the remote to the television in his hand.
“You look all soft and pink and… happy,” he says, tilting his head to the side as he takes me in.
“I’m all of those things,” I reply and climb on the bed to sit next to him, my back against the headboard. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Cereal,” he says proudly, gesturing to the Fruity Pebbles and a carafe of milk on the tray. “And coffee.”
“Yum.” Is it possible that we both love kids' cereal for breakfast? Because if so, I’m marrying him right now.
If I planned to get married, that is. Which I don’t.
“Are you just humoring me?” he asks as he engages Netflix on the TV.
“Nope, I love this stuff.” I pour myself a heaping bowl and settle back to munch. “Is this your favorite?”
“One of them.” He takes a bite and flips through movies. “My very favorite is Cap’n Crunch.”
“That stuff will tear the roof of your mouth up.”
“And yet it’s so delicious, we eat it anyway.”
I nod. “Oh! That one!”
“It’s a chick flick,” he says, moaning in agony. “Are you going to make me watch it? What about Pulp Fiction?”
“Never seen it,” I reply. “I want the romance.”
He blinks, sizing me up. “If you watch Pulp Fiction, I’ll watch your girlie movie.”
“Deal. Mine first.” I pour more cereal and settle in next to Declan as the opening credits begin. “This is nice.”
“Cereal and Netflix?”
“Yeah.”
He smiles and nods, kisses my forehead and opens his mouth, waiting for a bite of mine. I spoon some into his mouth. “Yours is better than mine.”
“It’s the same as yours.”
“Better,” he says with a shake of his head.
***
“Are you sure about this?” I ask him the next afternoon as we drive out of the city toward the Bayou. Declan decided this morning that I was going with him to have dinner with the family. I’ve discovered that once Declan gets his mind set on something, talking him out of it is futile.
I admit, I’m curious to meet his family. I mean, it’s not really that big of a deal. There will probably be a few other people there, and I can hold a conversation with just about anyone.
“I’m sure,” he replies lazily and lifts my hand to his lips. “They’re not scary.”
“I’m not scared,” I reply. Much. “It’s just a bit early to introduce me to your family, don’t you think?”
He slides his gaze over to mine, cocks a brow, then returns his attention to traffic. “What do you think?”
“I guess you wouldn’t have invited me if you didn’t think it was a good idea.”
“Exactly. You know me well enough by now to know that I rarely do anything I don’t want to,” he says and kisses my hand again. “Have you been out here before?”
“No.” I shake my head and gaze out at the trees, the swamps. “It’s so different out here.”
“You grew up here and never took a trip out to the Bayou?”
“That’s right.” I wrinkle my nose. “Are there ‘gators out there?”
“Most likely,” he says. “I promise not to toss you in with the ‘gators.”
“Gee, thanks.”
We settle into a comfortable silence, listening to satellite radio. We sing along to songs we know, and Declan shares stories about some of the musicians he’s met.
“So you used to do studio work in Memphis?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nods. “Still do, sometimes.”
“That’s awesome, Declan.”
“I prefer to perform live.” He turns off the main road and points to his left. “There’s the inn.”
“Wow.” I’ve never seen anything like it. It looks like something out of a fairy tale. Huge oak trees form a line with a brick path between them toward a large, two-story mansion with a deep front porch and a welcoming red door. “You grew up here?”
“In the summers,” he confirms. “We stayed in the city during the school year. My youngest sister, Gabby, made it into an inn about four years ago.”
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur as he pulls in to the driveway leading to the house. There are other buildings on the property, and from what I can see, gardens bursting with a riot of color. But it’s the trees that have me transfixed. “These trees have to be hundreds of years old.” To say they’re massive is an understatement. They more than dwarf the house, and several of the long limbs are so heavy they rest on the ground.
“That they are,” he replies with a smile, parks next to a row of cars that I assume are guests of the inn, and turns me to face him. “If at any time you’re uncomfortable, or if you just want to leave, you say so and we’ll go.”
“Declan, it’s a couple of people who happen to be related to you. I’ll be fine.”
He frowns. “It might be more than a couple of people.”
“Let me guess, all of these cars don’t belong to people staying at the inn?”
He shakes his head. “Gabby doesn’t have guests on Sundays. You’ll be great. You’re used to dealing with strangers.”
Yeah, but I’m not fucking the strangers’ relative.
But rather than say anything, I smile and push out of Dec’s car. He takes my hand when he joins me and leads me around to the back of the house. “Kitchen’s back here,” he says with a smile.
The smells coming from the house are amazing. “Do they hire someone to cook?”
“Hell no. Mama and Gabby do the bulk of it, but the rest of us pitch in too.”
I didn’t know real family dinners like this existed. I thought it was made up by Hollywood and romance novelists.
I take a deep breath as Declan reaches for the door, and then suddenly I’m led into a large, beautiful kitchen that is near to bursting with people and a dog that is currently leaping, trying to get the piece of meat that a little boy is holding high for him.
“Samuel Beauregard, take Derek outside, or you’re grounded from the computer for a week!” a petite brunette yells.
“That’s Gabby,��� Declan says. We still haven’t been spotted by the crowd of people. “She’s Sam’s mom. Her husband, Rhys, is the guy holding their daughter, Ailish.”
My gaze moves from the beautiful woman to her husband sitting at the breakfast bar with an adorable baby.
“You’re here!” Sam exclaims and hugs Declan around his waist. “And you brought a lady!”
The room hushes as everyone looks over at us. Declan ruffles Sam’s hair.
“I can’t get anything past you,” he says, then takes my hand and squeezes reassuringly. “I hope it’s okay that I brought a plus-one.”
“Of course it is,” Gabby says and smiles as she wipes her hands on a towel and walks over to us. “Welcome. I’m Gabby.”
“Callie,” I reply and shake her hand, certain I’ve met her before.
“I’ll introduce you to everyone,” Gabby says as she slips her arm through mine and skillfully guides me away from Declan. “This is our mama.”
“Pleasure,” I say and smile at the lovely woman with eyes the same as all of her children.
“Oh no, child, the pleasure is all mine.”
“This is my oldest brother, Beau.” Beau is sitting next to Rhys, his eyes assessing but friendly. “And my husband, Rhys, is next to him, with our little one.”
“She’s precious,” I reply and grin when Ailish leans over for me to take her, which I readily do. “Aren’t you, princess?”
“She likes you.”
“I like her too.”
“The guy with his nose buried in the redhead's hair is my brother Eli, and that’s his girlfriend, Kate. Charly’s chopping the collard greens.”
“I’d come shake your hand, but I’m a mess,” Charly says with a smile. “But it’s nice to meet you.”
“And this is Savannah, Declan’s twin sister.”
My eyes immediately find Declan’s. “Twin? That’s great. Nice to meet you, Savannah.”
“Call me Van,” she says and shakes my hand. The Boudreaux are a beautiful bunch of people, and they’re obviously surprised that Declan brought me.
“So am I the first?” I ask the room at large.
“First?” Van asks.
“The first girl that Declan has brought to family dinner.”
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