by Emelia Blair
I open my drawer and carefully, take out a new boxed phone and opening it, I start uploading Caleb’s data from his cloud so that when he leaves for his afternoon meeting, his new phone is ready for him.
First week back at work and I spent more than half of it blocking phone calls, dodging reporters. I never thought how big of a thing my attending this event with Caleb was.
Apparently, this is tabloids worthy news and I’m holding up the fort here.
Things aren’t made easy with Caleb and I, in the midst of a fight. He hasn’t said one word to me, and I refuse to bend to his will.
“He’ll come around,” Tracy reassures me as Saturday dawns and I sit in our kitchen, in a robe with a cup of coffee in my hands. “Caleb seems like one of those men who doesn’t understand the concept of being denied.”
I find that hard to believe since our childhoods were spent in squalor, but I miss him. And yet, my pride is not letting me approach him.
“You could always try seducing him,” Tracy suggests as she frosts a decadent looking chocolate cupcake for the catering thing she has in the afternoon. “You have the money. Go buy some lingerie.”
“I’m not using my body to get my way!” I protest. Although the idea does have its appeal. I shift in my seat. “But I wouldn’t mind getting some lingerie. I’ve never owned any.”
Tracy narrows her eyes at where Max is attempting to steal one of the cupcakes. “Take my son with you. Go to the mall. You two go relax. Have fun. Get out of my hair.”
I sniff. “Come on, Max. Your Mommy doesn’t love us. Let’s go to the movies.”
Sticky hands clasp onto my hand and I wince, as Max beams up at me. “We’re going to watch TV?”
“No.” I usher him into the bathroom to wash his hands. “We’re going to watch a movie on a huge screen, and we’ll eat popcorn and candy. And then I’m going to go buy some lingerie, not that you know what that is.”
He’s tripping over himself in excitement about to the movies that I doubt he’s following any of what I’m saying.
I get him dressed and carefully make sure his jacket is tight and warm before I put on long, loose knitted dress with tights and I’m zipping up my jacket as we leave the apartment when I bump into someone.
“Shit, sorr—Caleb?”
Caleb looks uncomfortable. He’s wearing jeans for a change and a dark trench coat. His hair is ruffled and yet he looks sinfully attractive making me consider Tracy’s suggestion.
“Are you two going somewhere?” he asks, glancing from me to Max who’s bursting with excitement.
I open my mouth, but Max just jumps a little, nearly hopping, “We’re going to the movies and then we’re going to get lingerie!” He half shouts this out, his innocent little mind ready to blabber everything to every stranger he might see.
I slap my hand on his mouth my face heating up. “We’re going to the movies.”
Caleb’s stiff expression which is starting to become a trademark over the past week softens and he looks a little amused. “Lingerie?”
“I was –” I try to brush it off but the damage has been done, “I was just thinking – I liked to sleep in some, yes.”
He gives me a considering look and then very provocatively drags his eyes up and down my body. “I see.”
Of course, he knows I lied.
Damn it.
“Do you mind if I come along?”
The request is innocent enough and it’s also a sort of olive branch.
I give in to temptation and take it, “Sure. If you want to. But we’re going to watch Castle in the Wind, that new cartoon movie. You’d best be prepared for that.”
As he walks along with us, he engages Max into a conversation as bright-eyed little Max transfers his hand from mine to Caleb’s while answering questions with open readiness and probing him with his own blunt little questions. “Are you rich?” Max stares at the car in the underground garage that belongs to Caleb.
“Yes.”
“I want to be rich when I grow up.” Max looks up at me for permission.
I nod soberly. “I’ll think about it. I’ll have to discuss it with your mom first.”
Satisfied by this turn of events, Max settles down.
Caleb flashes me a quick grin.
Even as my heart melts at that sudden boyish expression, I’m still wary at this change of heart from sulking at me to asking to accompany me and Max on an outing.
I tell myself to play it cool, to go with the flow, but the dam inside of me bursts as we wait in line for the snacks at the cinema. “What are you doing?” I hiss at him as I reach for my wallet, only for him to be a quicker draw.
“Paying for the popcorn,” Caleb replies easily. “Is that a crime? Max, what would you like to drink?”
Very clever, using the kid as a shield.
I wait for him to complete the transaction before grabbing him by the arm. “You know what I mean. You haven’t talked to me for a week and now, you’re coming to the movies with us? What gives?”
He looks down at me and says simply. “I missed you.”
It’s such an unexpected response where I had expected explanations and reasonings, he once again sweeps me off my feet and I’m left gaping at him, and I splutter, “I-I’m still upset with you.”
His lips curve in a small half-smile. “I know.”
So, we’re at a stalemate, I guess.
But I’ve missed him too ‒ and when he puts his arm over my shoulders as we take our seats in the theatre ‒ I snuggle into it.
I’m hardly aware of what’s happening in the movie, too conscious of the woodsy scent that is Caleb and the way his arm is draped over my shoulders, his firm body well within reach.
Since I’m seated between him and Max, every time he reaches for the bucket of popcorn in my lap, his fingers brush against mine and a thrill of excitement shoots up in me as I close my eyes against the assault on my senses.
The whole movie is one small torture after the other and by the time we leave, I stumble out, aiming for the bathroom, wanting to wash my face with cold water, my whole body flushed and wanting from Caleb’s close proximity.
When I come out, Max is wielding a toy sword that looks like the one in the movie and he’s brandishing it around like a monkey with a stick. Caleb is watching him carefully, as he immediately steers the little boy out of a couple’s way. He stands behind him, his hands on Max’s shoulders, scanning the crowds.
I’m still out of sight so I take the opportunity to observe him.
Caleb talked about marriage.
At the time, it was too overwhelming but right now, seeing him with Max, I let my imagination wander. What would it be like to have a family with him? What would our child look like?
Would our son look like Caleb with those sharp amber eyes and that dark hair? Would he have my wild temperament or Caleb’s cool?
His eyes are moving about the crowd as he searches for someone and then his gaze locks on mine and he arches a brow.
I make my way towards them and Caleb allows Max to run to me.
“Where’d you get the sword, Max?” I flick my finger at the plastic looking toy.
The child beams at me. “Caleb bought it for me!”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I murmur to Caleb who’s reached my side now.
He gives me a steady look. “I wanted to.” His hand reaches to skim the back of my neck and he asks, “Can I kiss you?”
The wariness in his expression as if he expects to be denied, makes my breath hitch. “What are you waiting for?” I ask.
He grins then and his lips settle on mine in a kiss that has me sighing in happiness.
17
Caleb
Controlling Kendall isn’t something I’m trying to do.
I found her after so long that the fear of her slipping from me is something that haunts me daily. She doesn’t understand my need to protect her and Jace’s behavior is growing more and more suspicious and she doesn’t see it
. I have someone looking into his past, but I can’t see any connection between him and Kendall and it’s frustrating to come up emptyhanded.
Confronting him is an option that I have but not something that I want to exercise right now, without hard evidence. I don’t want him to know that I’m looking into him.
However, I can only go so far with Kendall being cold towards me. Not cold as per, more like she unhappy. She doesn’t seem to know how to fix us after our fight and I see the way she sometimes looks my way, unsure of whether she would be welcome.
My bed seems empty without her, my arms hollow, this sense of loss hurting in a way that nothing has ever done before because she is within arm’s reach and yet, the distance between is so wide.
Maybe that’s what prompts me to go to her apartment on Saturday when I see her leaving on what looks like an outing with Max.
The relief in her eyes that we’re on talking terms makes me want to kiss her silly, to tell her that I will never leave her, that one small fight wouldn’t push me away.
She says she loves me; I can see that a part of her doesn’t believe in the strength of my feelings despite my actions. At the same time, she’s desperate to establish her independence, wanting to keep her head above the waters of what is our relationship.
It’s not that I don’t understand her desire to maintain her own identity and not drown in what she’s becoming. I know her. But this urge to protect her is something she has to accept. She’s not the only one with insecurities. I know my money isn’t what she’s interested in but it’s all I have to offer, aside from my twisted heart.
I know my faults and I know that I’m not gentle and overly expressive. My love is dark, possessive and stifling at times, and a part of me worries that it’ll drive her away.
So, I try to be what I’m not with her.
I’m trying to change myself for her.
And yet, there are times when her expression is unguarded and I see the darkness flitting behind her eyes, matching my own, hungry and wanting.
As I watch her holding Max’s hand, I know how we look like to the outside world, and as greedy as I am, I want them to think that. I want them to think that we’re a family. One day, we will be.
It’ll be our child whose hand she will be holding, my ring on her finger, eyes dancing with laughter rather than wariness and hope as she meets my eyes.
That dream is so near that I can nearly touch it and yet… it’s so far away that it is driving me insane.
My heart thumping in my chest, my expression not revealing any of my inner turmoil, I tuck my hands in my pockets and ask with a smirk on my lips, “So, lingerie?”
Kendall’s cheeks turn red. “No. Uh, I was thinking a walk and taking Max to the park.”
There is a park nearby and we sit on the bench as Max goes to play on the swings. We sit in silence for a few moments before I say, “Would you like to go out with me tonight?”
Kendall stills before looking towards me. “On a date?”
“Yes. The first thing we’ve done since coming back, is fight. I don’t want that. So, would you like to go on a date with me?” I study her face for any giveaways.
She chews on her lower lip, something which always fascinates me.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks.
“There’s a French restaurant that I thought you might like. They have this small band there and a dance floor. I thought you might like it.”
She blinks. “But I can’t dance.”
I feel amused. “It’s not that hard. Just don’t step on my feet and you’re good. Plus, I’ll lead.”
“I’ve never tried French food before,” she muses thoughtfully.
“You’ll love it,” I promise, earnestly.
“And after that?” She studies me.
I wonder how she’ll respond if I tell her that afterward, I’ll take her to my place, push her up against the door and fuck her until she forgets her own name. “We’ll see how the evening plays out,” I say instead with a half-smile.
She looks reluctant and tugs on my sleeve. “You’re plotting something.”
“Am not,” I respond, keeping my face bland.
She leans forward until our faces our inches apart. “You can hide it all you want but it’s in your eyes. You’re a manipulative ass.”
I smile broadly then. “Language, babe.”
She grins. “Language, my ass. I’ll probably end up enjoying your plans anyways.”
I tangle my fingers with hers and bring our hands to my lips to press a kiss against her knuckles. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The night doesn’t go according to what I had hoped.
Kendall loved the restaurant. I even managed to coax her into a slow dance with me. But apparently, the love of my life is a lightweight.
She’s giggling right now as I open the door to my apartment and usher her in.
Locking the door behind me, I study her as she moves towards the large couch and throws herself on it. “I missed you.”
“Should I feel jealous of the couch?” I ask, lightly, putting on some coffee to help her sober up.
“Not the couch, stupid. You. I missed you.” Her laughter has faded and she’s now lying on the couch, her legs dangling from the arm as she swings them back and forth. “You’re more annoying than you used to be, though.”
I walk over to the back of the couch and lean on it with my forearms, watching her wistful expression. “I’m aware.”
“So bossy.”
I made a sound of agreement.
“You’re always one step away from spanking me it seems.” She sounds disgruntled.
The very idea of it has my cock hardening. “I might just do that one day.”
My words catch her attention, and she looks vaguely surprised. “You want to spank me?” She struggles to look outraged and it’s a cute effort to watch. “I’m not a kid.”
“Oh, I know.” My words are heavy with meaning.
She blushes before realizing she’s losing this discussion. “I won’t let you,” she declares loudly.
I smirk then. “I sincerely doubt you’ll be in a position to protest much.”
She glares me, mutinously, and then suddenly her hands are reaching out and she’s grabbing a handful of my shirt to both propel herself up and pull me down.
Her mouth smashes against mine and I taste the sweet alcohol. I can also feel the sudden panic in her at initiating the kiss and I immediately take control of it, cradling the back of her head, my other hand stroking her jaw, teasing her lips with my own before sliding my tongue in her mouth.
She gasps and I curl my tongue against hers, sucking it, while my hand which was touching her jaw so tenderly goes to her hair and winds in it, grabbing a fistful to keep her in place as her back arches, her nipples stiff with want, and I think how easy it would be to take her, to bend her over the arm of the couch and rip her clothes off, to part her legs and fuck her raw as she howls my name.
And she would let me.
Regretfully though, I would never do that while she is seemingly drunk. So, I pull away, my eyes taking in her flushed expression, her dazed eyes, her swollen lips. “You’re too drunk,” I say regretfully.
She blinks at me, uncomprehendingly.
I continue, “You’re not fully aware of what you’re doing.”
She sits up, and annoyance flashes on her face. “Am too!”
I chuckle, caressing her face. “No, you’re not. And I’m not the kind of man to take advantage of a woman while she’s inebriated.”
Her smile is sly then, as she tilts her head. “But I’m your woman.”
My cock hardens almost painfully as my hand reaches for her hair and grips a fistful tightly, making her gasp as she’s forced to look at me. “Yes, you are. Never forget that.”
She takes a shuddering breath, lust in her hazel eyes. “When you do that, it just makes me want to crawl at your feet and let you do whatever you want to me.”
I groan and release her. “You’re a menace.”
“Want to fuck it out of me?” She smirks at me.
I clench my teeth. “Behave.”
She frowns then, clearly realizing her efforts are for naught. “You know what your problem is?” She waves her hands dramatically, knocking over a cushion.
I wait but she seems to have forgotten what she has to say and is now staring at her upraised arms. “What was I saying?”
“You were telling me about my problem?” I say helpfully.
She clears her throat and with renewed determination, she continues, “Your problem is that you can’t get it up. You’ve lost your libido.”
I glance down at the bulge in my pants that’s aching, and murmur, “I hardly think that’s the problem.”
“No.” She shakes her head, soberly. “You’re a workaholic and you’ve lost your libido which is why you won’t do me right now and you’re making excuses.”
I start smiling now, very entertained. “Is that so?”
“Yeah.”
She sounds so serious that my lips start twitching and I’m struggling not to laugh. “That’s very insightful. I’ll be sure to remind you of that in the morning.” I help her stand and guide her towards the bedroom to give her something to change into and put her in bed.
“Where are we going?” she asks cheerfully. “Are we going to look for your sex drive?”
I’m smirking, broadly. “Oh, Kendall. Tomorrow is going to be so much fun.”
For the next three days, Kendall refuses to look me in the eye because every time she does, I pleasantly ask her if she could help me find my libido.
I’m in the middle of a meeting with Lucas which is bordering on boring when she barges in, face flushed. “That’s it!” She snarls to my delight as she ignores the stunned lawyer and rounds the desk to drill a finger in my chest in response to the text message I’d just sent. “You find your own goddamn libido, you sadistic piece of shit! And get your own fucking coffee while you’re at it. I’m taking a late lunch.”