by Claire Woods
“It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Thank you,” he whispers cupping my face kissing me tenderly.
His stomach growls causing us to break apart. “I’m hungry too. We can sneak in the back door to the café and have Mike make us something special.”
“Oh yeah? Am I your charity case now?”
“How about, just mine?”
“Definitely.” He answers picking me up and carrying me back to bed.
“I thought you were hungry?”
“I am. I’m starving,” he replies lifting up my shirt, yanking my bra to the side and rolling a nipple with his tongue. My hands clutch the back of his head to my breast. He was right—the two of us together are a live wire, burning hot. I never want to leave this bedroom, even if a tidal wave was about to hit. I’d want my last moments to be locked in his embrace while the two of us move as one.
***
“Play hooky today? Then we can bike to campus together later. I’ll work out while you’re in class?”
“You are so bad… turning me into a total slacker.”
“You are the hardest working woman I know. When’s the last time you took a day off?”
“Like never.”
“Do it.”
Sighing, I text Wes asking if he has everything under control at the docks.
He texts back that it’s been slow. So far, no reporters have found me there since the business is in an LLC with a generic name as the holder. This time my tummy growls causing us to laugh.
After we shower together, we walk down the beach hand in hand. He has a ball cap pulled low over his head and a dark pair of sunglasses on. He even put a cap on my head and had me braid my hair.
I lead him off the beach a few streets from the café, sneaking around the building, darting behind the dumpsters and knocking on the back door.
“Callie?”
“I’m starving. Feed us.”
“Get in here,” Mike pulls my hand, looking left and right, then shuts the door quickly behind Gabe bolting it.
“They were here all morning, hoping one or both of you would show. The press is more determined than the seagulls waiting to steal the trash from the bins.”
I lead Gabe over to the small table in the corner by the window. “This is where I used to sit with my crayons and coloring books when Mom and Dad worked their shifts. As I got older, I would get off the bus and do my homework right here. I loved the smells of the kitchen while I worked.”
Gabe smiles, “You had a good childhood?”
“The best.”
“I did too. I never did tell you, why I’m such a great singer.”
“Oh, do tell. I need to hear this story.”
He leans forward hunching over the small table with the red and white checkered cloth covering it. “My mother was in her early twenties in the eighties… she worked for MTV as a solid gold dancer.”
“My dad would’ve love her. He had a thing for Sheena Easton.”
“No shit! Anyway, we would watch her dance on old VHS tapes and sing along. She was so much fun. My father was always working trying to make a name for himself, so it was often just the two of us. She loved Broadway shows, too. I can’t even tell you how many times I saw CATS.”
“Sounds like she was an amazing mom and friend.”
“She was the best. I miss her every day.” He looks down, but not before I saw the searing pain in his eyes.
“Hey.” My hand covers his across the table. “You are an amazing man. I’m sure she had a lot to do with that. You’re so incredible I can hardly believe it.”
“Told you—I was good.” He winks.
“Stop.” I playfully smack his hand.
“Thank you,” he whispers picking up my hand, kissing it. My heart melts at the look in his eyes as he gazes at me like I’m just as incredible as I think he is. Gina was right—falling is magic when it’s with someone like Gabe.
“Okay, you two lovebirds. Here you go.” Mike places two steaming plates in front of us. Gabe got served breakfast and lunch. The steam from his scrambles eggs making my mouth water.
“I figured, you probably eat a lot.”
“I do. Callie, please let me pay.”
“Nope.” I wave my fork with a home fry stabbed on the prongs at him, “I got you a job at the bike shop if you want it. A few shifts here and there… it’s perfect too because the hours you’ll work will be after close just washing them down, putting air in the tires and tidying up the shop. Gina hates working nights. So, it should work out.”
“You are my lucky star. I knew it. I’ll make this up to you someday babe when I have money and can treat you good.”
“Stop. You treat me like a queen as it is. I don’t need anything, just you.”
He sighs, closing his eyes, “Maybe, getting accused of cheating on my exam was the best thing that could’ve happened to me because it led me here—to you.”
Mike rolls his eyes as he flips burgers at the grill. “I didn’t sweat my ass off cooking food for you—only for it to go cold while the two of you make moon eyes at each other.”
“Mooneyes?” I mouth, giggling.
Gabe winks, “Yes, sir.”
We knock knees under the table, hold hands, eating with our other ones. It’s the best lunch date I’ve had. The summer breeze blows through the open windows, Mike sings along with the radio, and the smell of burgers on the grill fills my nose, as the man who makes my heart beat faster threads his fingers through mine like he’ll never let go.
GABE
IF ANY PAPS ARE OUT all they’ll get are pics of me shirtless feet pounding the sand as I race to the close out my fourth mile.
I can’t believe I dipped into her bare yesterday. But I couldn’t stop myself. That girl makes me crazy; wild with lust that shuts down any common sense. But it’s not just her body I crave. What first drew me in was her sassy mind, quirky sense of humor and her fire. I was a goner that night she stole the car and laughed as she drove away.
But I know I’m clean. Hell, I’ve had enough blood drawn to fill a blood bank. Every test coming back negative. I’ve never had sex without a condom. Except the one time, I woke to Jackie riding me, taking advantage of my morning wood.
I threw her off quickly, wrapping up, but I was unsure how long she was on me.
I lost my head yesterday and despite Callie telling me she has herself protected—I won’t be the man who screws up her dreams. Especially since mine are getting so royally fucked with. We had the best time together last night. After class, we stayed at my place, curled up on the sofa watching old movies and eating popcorn. We talked as much as we kissed, eventually making it to the bedroom.
Stopping in the wet sand, I get down on my elbows, rising into a plank. Waves hit my back, rinsing off the coat of sweat clinging there, cooling me off. I hold it for three minutes then change positions and bang out two hundred push-ups.
Getting back up, I sprint for three minutes then jog when I reach the part of the beach where Callie lives. I took her key with me hoping to get her some things. The houses dotting this section abut to the public beach, where Gran’s cottage has private beach rights. Sure, as shit—twenty men with fingers hovering above fancy Nikon cameras attached to tripods wait. All of them pointed at the back of my girl’s house.
I can get in… but how in the hell am I going to slip out? Looking straight ahead, my fingers reach inside the zippered pocket of my shorts finding the key. Sprinting past them, the sounds of rapid clicks are followed by shouts. But I’m fast as fuck and no match for men who stand around all day.
Safely inside, my fingers twist the bolt. I help myself to a bottle of water and walk upstairs to her room.
Instead of feeling like an intruder, I feel like her home is already my home as I stare at photographs of her and her friends scattered around her room. But one picture stops me cold. It’s of her and what must be her mom. They have matching chocolate hair and smiles that would brighten any room.
I wish there wa
s something I could do—something I could give, to make this right for Callie.
Putting the picture back on her dresser. I open her closet and find a duffel bag. I’ve never had a sister but have been in enough relationships to feel comfortable packing her bag. Twenty minutes later, it’s all zipped up and ready to go. Jogging back down the stairs, I pause by the front window, raising a few blinds with my fingers.
I’m trapped.
They know I’m inside.
Sighing, I take out my phone and google the Sea Spray PD. Hitting call, I grin as it connects to dispatch.
“911 what’s your emergency?”
“Hi… this is Gabe Parker. I’m trapped inside my girlfriend’s house. You might know her? Callie Anderson?”
“The chief’s niece?”
“The very one.”
“Well, hang on son. I’ll send the swat car.”
“That really won’t be necessary.”
“Honey… we’ve been dying to test it out. It’s been sitting here since March.”
“How is that going to help me get home unnoticed?”
“We’re the police. We’re pros. Do you need me to stay on the line with you?”
“No, I’ll be okay,” I chuckle.
She hangs up. Then it occurs to me—the pictures of me getting into a SWAT car are going to go viral. Shit’s going to hit the fan again depending on what the captions say under the photographs. But maybe it’ll give them something else to go into a frenzy over—something other than pictures of my girl captured beneath the moonlight.
“Holy shit,” I mutter ducking my head, using Callie’s duffel to shield my face as four armed officers meet me on her stoop, escorting me into a kick-ass Humveed-up van.
***
“Banger?” Sweaty and tired as hell my fists clench at him sitting at the table while Callie serves him breakfast wearing my shirt and no bra. At least not that I can tell.
“What happened to you?”
Dropping her bag, I grab the TV remote hitting the on button.
“Gabe? Why are you being escorted out of my house by SWAT police.”
“It was the only way out, babe.”
“My father’s going to hit the roof if his head doesn’t go right through it.”
“Damn, bro. You really know how to make an exit. You’re a born celebrity. If football doesn’t work out—Hollywood will be knocking at the door.”
“Not interested. I hate the press.”
“Maybe, so. But they love you.”
“Whatever.” I shuffle over to my girl, grabbing her around the waist as she fries bacon.
“Ummm,” my fingers snatch a few from the hot pan before she can whack them with the spatula in her hand. “Where did this food come from?”
“Banger. He ran out to the corner market when he found me opening all these empty cupboards.”
She won’t look me in the eye; her cheeks wear a natural blush as she feels me staring down.
“Ah, my shy little princess,” I murmur against her ear, “your bad wolf is going to ravage you as soon as I get rid of him.” Giving her a playful smack on the ass, I chug the glass of orange juice she poured for me eyes glaring at Banger over the rim, telling him to stop looking at her ass.
He smirks, raising a brow challenging me.
So, I hit him where it hurts.
“Babe. Did you and Banger hit it off? Did he tell you how he hooked up with Soph?”
“What?” She spins so fast; I have to catch her. She stalks towards him all bed hair and wild eyes.
“It’s not like that. She’s sweet. We just kissed, I swear.” He holds his palms up to halt her advance.
“Don’t mess with her, Banger. Soph isn’t some summer slut.”
“No, she isn’t.”
“You like her, don’t you?” My girl asks.
“Maybe.” He’s evasive; I need to jump in and rescue him. Banger’s been here for me. He’s a new friend, but his loyalty is that of a best.
“What’ up anyway?”
“I have news.”
I take a seat across the table, grabbing Callie’s arm as she serves me a hot breakfast. Taking her hand, I place a kiss on the inside of her wrist. “You don’t have to serve me, babe.”
“I know. But I wanted to.”
Banger rolls his eyes, finishes chewing his food then continues. “My father’s representing you.”
“What?”
“Yeah. He’s a big-time lawyer in Georgia, that’s where I’m from. The only thing he loves more than winning a case is football.”
“I-I can’t pay him.”
“It’s pro-bono, man. Every hour he helps you is a tax write off.”
“Are you sure.”
“Absol-fuckin-lutely.”
“Shit,” I let out a breath with a hiss. “Thanks. I needed a break.”
“Trust me. My dad representing you is going to be a total game changer.”
My eyes find Callie’s as she sips her coffee, “I hope you’re right.”
***
Banger stayed for another half hour before I kicked him out and took my girl back to bed where I made love to her gentle and slow. Hips and lips saying what I can’t with words—not yet. I gaze into her beautiful eyes as we come together, perfectly as one. My hands lock hers above her head as my dick pulses deep, hitting her spot. “Babe, God, Callie,” my eyes shut as my dick jerks, blowing my load in her again. I feel her inner walls clenching me with her own release.
“I could love you someday. Someday soon,” I whisper against her hair, hands coming down to cradle her face as I kiss her sweetly, still emptying myself into the condom.
Her dark eyes don’t answer. They’re full of pain.
“Babe?”
“Don’t leave me,” she whispers. “Everyone I love leaves me.”
“Never. Never,” I swear, kissing her again.
She sighs beneath me, hands clutching the back of my head. My heart sputters and stalls. I’m a goner. My heart’s sunk to the bottom of her ocean locked up tight in her tiny hands.
“Stay in bed with me? I don’t want you having to deal with idiots today.”
“No. I have to go in. I’m not a coward. Besides, you need to get your second work out in at the gym. You’re getting soft.” She giggles squeezing my bicep.
My dick stirs against her thigh. “Nothing on me is soft, baby.”
Slipping another condom on, I roll her to her side going in deep, realizing she basically admitted she loved me.
***
I drive her into work reluctantly. She’s cute as hell in tiny khaki shorts, tennis shoes and a teal polo top. Her long hair is pulled back in a high ponytail.
Before she can swing the door open, my arm blocks the handle, “Where’s my kiss?”
“There are cameras everywhere.”
“So? They’ve gotten worse shots.”
“Don’t remind me.”
But she tilts her head to mine, kissing me sweetly. I growl low in my throat not wanting sweet. Every time I see the press—I see red, wanting to stake my claim that this girl is mine and if they fuck with her I’ll kill them. My hand moves to her head, our lips fuse as my tongue takes hers over and over. We’re having sex with our mouths.
Click. Click-click-click.
My car is surrounded, but I don’t give a fuck. Let them take all the pictures they want. There’s nothing wrong with a man kissing the girl he loves.
Holy fuck. I’m in love.
Although I’ve been in long-term relationships, I wouldn’t say I’ve ever really been in love. Until now. Until Callie.
She breaks away needing to breathe. “How am I going to get out?”
“Just open the door hard and push them out of the way. Don’t let them loiter. At least make them buy something.”
“Our sales are up sixty-percent since the story broke that we’re dating.”
“See? I am good for something, besides my huge—”
“Shut-up!” She slaps a han
d over my mouth giggling, “They probably have professional lip-readers on payroll.”
“Who cares?”
“Ummm, I do? Hello? My parents still watch the news.”
“Ancients.”
“Har-har. Don’t forget we’re going to my Uncle Steve’s house tonight for a cookout.”
“The Chief of police?”
“Yes.”
“Great.”
“Don’t worry. He’s a huge fan.”
“Those are the worst. They talk my ears off all night about plays and how I can improve my game.”
“I think your game is just fine.”
“I thought you said you don’t watch football.”
“I don’t. But you still scored me.”
“I did, sweetheart, I did.” I cup her face for another quick kiss before she takes a deep breath, opens the door hard and runs through the crowd.
I don’t know what possesses me to say it.
Watching her struggle and fight them off, kicking one in the shins makes me grin. As she runs towards the door, the words just gush out.
“I’m falling in love with you!” I yell through the open passenger door.
She freezes, hand on the door to the café. She turns around. The crowd is going wild! Cameras point at me and her bouncing like a tennis ball at Wimbledon back and forth over the net.
“I’m falling in love you with you, too!” She yells back with a grin, “Even though you’re a horrible singer.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah!” She puts a hand on her hip daring me.
This is so us.
Public displays of PDA or dares.
Putting my SUV back in park, I roll down all the windows open the sunroof, and scroll through my phone connected to the Bluetooth speakers.
She’s never going to guess this one. Finding the soundtrack to Dirty Dancing (the original) I blast I’ve had the time of my life, stand up, my thick forearms go through the sunroof first, my head and shoulders following. Her mouth hangs open as at the top of my lungs I start belting it out.