by Emelia Blair
The silence allows me to reflect on what has happened and I start breaking down the events of last night in my head. I feel a hint of embarrassment at how quickly I fell in bed with him.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Caleb admonishes me.
I stubbornly refuse to look at him. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” He runs his fingers through my hair, making me shiver in ecstasy.
His mouth brushes against my ear and when he teases my earlobe, I have to stifle my moan. “Stop it.”
“Then stop overthinking.”
I turn my head to frown at him. “I’m—”
Without warning, his mouth is on mine.
Caleb has this way of holding me in place that excites me. His touch is firm but unyielding and there is no escaping from it. He makes me take what he’s giving me and when I feel his tongue in my mouth, I make a small aroused sound, rubbing my legs together as the ache between them changes to slippery want and my nipples stiffen to form tight peaks, begging for his touch.
His kiss is slow and gentle and yet, so incredibly dirty that it’s just making me writhe in his hold, torn between wanting to escape and wanting to be pulled closer. I feel his hand part my robe and he fondles one breast, his fingers tugging at the stiff peak, making me moan into his mouth, his tongue doing all sorts of unheard things to me.
And just like that, I’m under his thrall and I whimper in need.
The sound of my phone ringing has me trying to pull away.
“Let it ring,” Caleb demands against my mouth.
As tempted as I am to let his drugging kisses sweep me away, I reluctantly push at him until he lets go of me, unhappily.
“Where is it?” I look around and hearing the vibration on the side table to his right, I scramble towards it, in the moment forgetting that I’m now laying completely in his lap until his hand caresses my ass in a meaningful manner and before I answer the phone, I glare at the , “Don’t you dare.”
It’s Jane on the other line. “You were supposed to send me a reply last night!” She sounds annoyed.
I rub the bridge of my nose. “Yes. I’m sorry about that. You can’t publish anything about his past. Mr. Starr was pretty clear about that. Remove that part and you’re good to go.”
I hear Jane argue with me, but I don’t change my mind, finally telling her, “Change it or don’t publish it. Your choice.”
She finally relents before saying a little snidely, “Quite a performance back there at the Heimens Ball. It’s made the papers.”
My jaw tightens.
She can’t know, can she?
When I close the phone, I straighten up into a sitting position.
Caleb watches me with an acute interest. “Did you ever take any business classes?”
I fix my robe, wary of his wandering hands, the heat between my legs still pulsing. “It was mandatory before starting out at Flour Industries. I’m better at organizing, so I stuck to that.”
“No wonder you’re so good at it. Steven Miller tried to poach you once.” His tone is sour.
I’m startled by this news. “Really?”
Caleb puts his hand on my shoulder, lowering me to the bed. “He kept sending you these damned muffin baskets and stopped by every now and then.”
I can hear the jealousy in his voice, and I wonder if it’s strange that I like it. “I never got any baskets. I never saw him in the office either.”
Caleb is looming over me and untying my robe belt, parting it.
I tremble as his fingers brush over my skin, my abdomen, moving downwards until he’s running one finger up and down my soaked slit.
“You weren’t in the office that day when he sent you that first one.” He gives me a predatory look. “I gave it to Lucas.”
“That wasn’t—” One thick finger enters me, and I gasp out, “—yours.”
“I apologize,” Caleb says insincerely.
As his fingers start moving in an out of my pussy in an increasing rhythm, my back arches. “You owe me muffin baskets now.”
“I’ll get you the whole damn bakery,” he murmurs against my thigh which he’s busy kissing, and then his mouth replaces his fingers.
Now, I can’t think of anything but how good it feels as he laps at my pussy and sucks at the juices, fucking me with his clever tongue.
One thing that I’m starting to realize about Caleb is that he’s insatiable. And he’s going to get me addicted to his touch.
The room is filled with my breathless pants, cries and pleas as he mercilessly plows on, determined to drag as many orgasms as he possibly can from my pliable body. My fingers dig into the crumpled bedsheets and I watch myself through dazed, half lidded eyes at my legs dangling from his shoulders, my upper body half airborne, as he sits and eats me out to his heart’s content.
My body convulses under his mouth and he holds me still, making me feel helpless and out of control, “Caleb, please!”
He’s smirking against my pussy, his eyes on me, almost sadistic, greedy, as I writhe and sob out, the force of the orgasm draining me.
Five, six, I’ve lost count of how many times he’s made me come before he cleans me with his tongue and lowers me to the bed, pulling me gently in his arms.
I’m naked now, my backside pressed against the hardness of his clothes. My mind is a hazy bliss but concern still breaks through, as I say hoarsely, “You haven’t—”
He grabs my hand and presses a kiss to it. “This was for you. Get some rest.”
I mumble something but exhaustion wins and I’m sliding into sleep.
15
Caleb
Kendall sleeps like the dead in my arms, snuggled into my side, her arms wrapped around my middle, her face buried in the side of my hip where I’m sitting while going over every article I can find about last evening.
I can never truly anticipate this woman.
She had been in love with me.
The shock of this revelation still hasn’t been digested yet.
I hadn’t known that Kendall had been in love with me. Even when left the orphanage on my eighteenth birthday, she hadn’t mentioned it, hadn’t let it slip, just held me and cried.
Her tears now took on a whole new meaning and I let my eyes roam over her still figure, and I curse myself for not having found her earlier.
I never thought she would remain a virgin but the years old scars on her back might have been incentive not to let anyone see them. She might not be ashamed of them but she’s still wary of other people’s reactions. This explains the panic attack she had when Lana had called me.
Her robe is slipping off and I touch the upraised skin on her back, fury igniting in my chest at the idea of her having to have endured this. I want to ask her but not yet. For now, there is still hesitation in her eyes, doubt of whether she’s done the right thing by sleeping with me. Until I erase that wariness, I need to hold off on the questions.
But when I find out who’s responsible for the scars that mar her back, I’m going to break them. There are a lot of ways to hurt someone without getting caught.
These are lessons I’ve learned firsthand.
Kendall shivers in her sleep.
I pull up the blanket to her shoulders and she nestles closer to me. Till she walked back into my life, I hadn’t realized how touch starved I was. I can’t get enough of touching her, running my fingers over her soft skin, through her hair.
A part of me, the part I buried somewhere deep inside, which holds my vulnerabilities and weaknesses, fears that if Kendall were to ever find out how desperately I need her, she’d feel too overwhelmed and just leave.
Even now, despite knowing she loves me and that she’s given herself to me, my brain is still trying to come up with ways to make sure she can never leave. At the same time, I know that if walking away from me would bring her happiness, I wouldn’t stand in her way.
I’m a slave to her whims and it makes me wonder if she knows how much control she wields over me.
I smooth the tangles that I see in her hair, and murmur, “You weren’t supposed to be the one holding all the cards.”
And yet, she is.
A flashing on my screen alerts me to an email and I see the article Lana has sent me.
The Belle of the Ball.
An entire article dedicated to Kendall.
I feel something settle in my chest as I read about how Caleb Starr walked in with a faerie-like creature who wore Anthony Jenkin’s latest creation and was more than just beauty. Wit and charm and brains, Kendall has become quite a topic.
Knowing her, she would be bewildered by discovering that people find her charming and witty.
Grinning, I move downwards, and then see another article attached to this one. Clicking on it, I find my good mood evaporating. Kendall’s status as my PA is being openly discussed and lengthy paragraphs talking about how Kendall managed to raise herself from the position of an assistant to that of someone whom Caleb Starr felt compelled to take to the event of the year. There are questions about the relationship and about how women like Kendall climb the corporate ladder, using their body and their looks, her looks appointed a whole new paragraph which is lengthy in detail but disparaging, claiming her to be less than average looking, picking on her every feature.
My anger grows with each word until I finally throw the tablet aside, overflowing with rage at someone daring to call Kendall anything less than extraordinary; this brave, stubborn girl who is so quick and clever, whose brain is ten times sharper, who is kind and yet clings on to her self-worth, refusing to be trampled upon.
“I don’t have ugly eyebrows.”
I hear Kendall’s offhand comment and I’m taken aback to see that she’s awake, her head in my lap now, as she blinks languidly in my direction, demanding, “What’s wrong with my eyebrows?”
I smooth my thumb over them, my temper fading at the look in her eyes, and I grin. “Apparently they make you look positively deranged. Guess I have a kink now.”
She grumbles in my lap, “That was a shitty piece. Bet you a dollar she had something lodged up in her ass.”
“How long have you been awake for?” I ask, enjoying watching her stretch and then settle back on me as if she belongs on my lap.
She does.
“You woke me up when you started petting me like a cat,” she retorts and then stretching again, she rolls over until she’s on the edge of the bed, and sitting up. “What time is it?”
“Nearing three in the afternoon.”
“I need another shower. And I’m hungry.” She looks over her shoulder at me. “After we eat, we should talk.”
“About what?” I feel myself tensing.
She turns around, pins her hair on top of her head and, grabbing her robe… all while flushing at the way I’m watching her hungrily. “About this. About all of this. What it means, what you want from me.”
“I just want you, Kendall,” I say, simply.
Her eyes soften but her mouth firms and she gives me a small smile that verges on sadness. “Things like this always have consequences, Caleb. I don’t have to be experienced to know that. Do you mind ordering up something light?”
I watch her leave and when the top of her rope gapes from the back, I see a glimpse of her scars.
Consequences, indeed.
By the time, Kendall is out of the shower, I’ve ordered some burgers from a famous burger chain nearby, and I’ve pulled on a shirt.
“These look good.” Kendall’s eyes gleam as she bites into one with relish.
“I thought you might like it,” I comment as I work on my own.
We get done with the food with my stealing her fries and some of her milkshake which she protests against but doesn’t exactly stop me.
Once we’re done, she walks over to the ugly looking couch and deposits herself on it, deliberately putting herself out of my reach.
I narrow my eyes at that but don’t comment on it. “Well, what would you like to talk about?”
She chews on her lower lip, staring at me, her brain working in overdrive as she tries to arrange the endless questions in her brain. “Are we dating?”
I think about it, carefully, taking apart the word and not liking the short-term implications of it. “No. We’re in a relationship.”
“What does that mean for me?” She’s watching me, a hint of nerves in her eyes.
“That I’m playing for keeps. I want to marry you. I want to have you in my life in every way.” When she swallows, I want to get up and go to her, but her body language indicates that it won’t be welcome, so I try explaining, “I’ve never connected with anyone the way I’ve done with you. I’ve never wanted to ether. Initially, I just wanted to take care of you. And then I met you, and I didn’t realize that you would have grown up just as I did, that you’d be a different person. I fell in love with that person. Maybe I had always been in love with you and I just didn’t know.”
I’m trying to be honest with her, and I feel a bit of alarm when she wipes her eyes.
Then she says, “Okay. Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “You want to marry me. That’s a lot to take in.”
I shrug. “It’s the truth. I’m sorry if it’s too blunt.”
She gives a shaky laugh. “No. You’ve always been blunt. Why stop now?”
I give a half smile and she returns it hesitantly. “What about my job?”
“What about it?” I feel a hint of confusion. “Do you want to quit?” I don’t like the idea of her quitting.
“No!” She brings her knees to her chest. “I just – I want to know if I still have one.”
I cock my head, puzzled. “Why wouldn’t you have your job?”
She looks uncomfortable. “I know you used to say before that my job wouldn’t be affected but I just thought maybe this would change things.”
“Do you like your job?” I ask steadily.
“Yeah. Not very fond of my boss, though.” A hint of sarcasm reflects in her voice.
I bite my tongue in an effort not to laugh. “Good. You shouldn’t be making eyes at anybody but me.” Then, I add, “Your job was never in jeopardy. You work for me, not the company, so this position was always open for you. Even if things hadn’t worked out, your job would always have been there. Not that you would have said no.”
“Excuse me?” Kendall blinks, a little annoyed. “I could have said no to you.”
A slow smile curls on my face, arrogance oozing from me. “No, you wouldn’t have. And even if you did, I would have won you over eventually.”
“Awfully cocky, aren’t you?” She looks like she’s trying not to reach out and hit me.
“When it comes to you, yes,” I respond, my eyes taking in the flush on her cheeks when I say, “All I had to do was talk you into my bed and then bamboozle you into a relationship.”
“Bamboozle,” Kendall echoes. “Not exactly a word that suits you, does it?”
I smirk. “Maybe not. But I wasn’t above manipulation. You think too highly of me, Kendall. I wasn’t above playing dirty to get you.”
She splutters at that but there is no hiding the pleased look in her eyes at the attempts I was willing to go to acquire her. “What about my apartment? I’m keeping it.” She looks are me, daring for me to say any different.
“Fine, but you sleep in my bed.”
“Not yet,” she counters.
Now, I see the spine of steel that’s slowly been emerging in her over the past few months.
“Date me properly and let me get to know you first. Again.”
I blink at this, not having considered it. “You want me to court you?”
“In a way.” She blushes then. “I’ve never dated before and I always wanted to know what it’s like. With flowers and stuff.”
It’s such an innocent demand that I want to reach over and kiss her, but I restrain myself. “That doesn’t sound too bad.” I‘m actually enjoying the idea of it. “Maybe we could go today on a date? How do you feel about a trip to D
isneyland? Amusement parks count as dates, right?”
I see the excitement in her eyes even as she tries to hide it and I can’t help but smile.
Pleasing her is so easy.
When she says in a casual manner, “It sounds all right,” I chuckle.
“Go get dressed into something casual.”
I watch her bounce towards the wardrobe, and I hope that she maintains this childlike enthusiasm forever. It’s appealing in a way as is the way she sobers up and becomes all businesslike.
Every version that I’ve seen of her, has made me fall even more in love with her and I wonder if that’s how it’s going to be for the rest of our lives.
The visit isn’t long, but we get in a few hours of exploring and Kendall talks me into trying out a few rides with her.
I should have known she would like the most dangerous looking rides.
By the time we leave, her cheeks are flushed, and she’s tucked under my arm, talking a mile and a half excitedly.
This is my first time seeing her like this with me, laughing and smiling so openly.
The thought hits me like a boulder and I nearly stagger under the weight of the revelation.
“What is it?” she asks me as we stand at the entrance of the park.
I feel something unwind in my chest as I cup her face in my hands and kiss her slowly, tenderly, wishing she could feel all these hot, jumbled up emotions battling inside of me.
Fear of losing her. Warmth at the very sight of her. Possessiveness. This desire to protect her, to hide her from the cruelties the world has to offer.
She’s seen the scars on me. They’re vicious but less so than hers. Mine have healed over with time but hers haven’t.
She smiles into the kiss and when I pull away, she leans into me, dazed. “You’re too good at this. My brain fizzles out every time you kiss me.”
I’m sure she never intended to tell me this and I look smug at this tidbit of information. “Maybe I should kiss you every time we have an argument.”