by Joya Ryan
“That’s it,” he rasped, and yanked up my shirt to bare one of my breasts. “Fuck me how you want.” He latched onto my nipple and sucked. The sensation mixed with the hard power of his body working in and out of mine was so dizzying I couldn’t see straight.
Gripping the headboard, I bore down on him, whipping my hips in his lap as he pumped in and out, hitting every single spot I had and flying me over the release.
“Cal, yes, oh God, Cal.”
He growled and now I knew why. He’d imagined what his name sounded like when I called it out. So I did it again. And again.
“I’m going to come, love,” he said, and buried his face in my neck. I hugged him tight and his whole body shuddered. His hot release flooded me and hit so deep my inner walls spasmed again, as if wanting more.
Cupping my face, he peppered kisses along my mouth, my jaw, and my neck. Loving on me like I had done something special. It was sex. We both knew that. But this time, it went further. From playful, to serious, to intimate. It was new. Different. Yet completely ours.
“I’m glad you invited me over,” I said with a smile and heavy breathing.
“Oh, Kitten, you have no idea how glad I am you accepted.”
Chapter 15
I tossed and turned for the millionth time. It was almost two a.m., and after the amazing sex, I was sure I’d be able to sleep. No such luck. My mind just wandered with more thoughts than I could process. I was so tired I couldn’t think, yet my brain wouldn’t shut off.
I quietly slipped from Cal’s bed and turned to look at him. His arm was out, as if seeking the empty sheets of where I’d just been. He looked so peaceful. So incredibly handsome.
I walked to the front room where I’d left my purse and got the sleeping pills out that the doctor prescribed me a few weeks ago.
I just wanted some rest. I wanted to be able to wake up with Cal tomorrow and not feel exhausted, and maybe even enjoy the day.
“Take one to two…” I read. I popped two in my mouth, grabbed a quick drink, and put the pills back in my purse. I headed back to bed and snuggled in next to Cal. Even in his sleep, he reached for me and pulled me close. His body was like a furnace, running hot and warming me, so I didn’t bother with covers. I just closed my eyes, tried to let my mind go blank, and prayed for sleep to finally come.
~
“Lana…”
I heard Cal calling my name and something pinching my wrist. My eyes felt so heavy, like they were made of cement, and they refused to open. But I kept hearing Cal. I tried to move my hand where the pinch was coming from.
Finally, my eyes started to work, and I struggled to open them. I squinted, then tried to open them wide, which wasn’t easy. The haze cleared a bit, and I saw Cal.
He was staring down at me, a look of pure terror on his face. “Jesus Christ,” he said, and glanced at a watch in his hand.
I frowned and looked down to see the pinching was his fingers over the pulse in my wrist.
“What are you doing?” I asked in a groggy voice. My mouth felt dry, and the whole world was in slow motion.
“I’m taking your vitals,” he snapped, as if mad at me, which didn’t make sense. I looked around. I was in his bed, still wearing his shirt. He was wearing pajama bottoms and a look of fear and anger.
He finally let go of my wrist, tossed the watch on the bedside table, and grabbed the glass of water that sat there.
“Here, drink this,” he helped me sit up. I took the water and drank, and he tucked the covers further around me like it was sixty below.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, and set the cup back on the night stand.
He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at me. “You wouldn’t wake up,” he said with rage in his voice. “You were freezing cold and didn’t wake up. I physically tried moving you, anything, but you just…were limp.” He shook his head and stood, grabbing the top of his head with both hands.
“I’m sorry. I took some sleeping pills last night because I couldn’t sleep.”
His eyes shot to mine. “How many?”
“Two. The bottle said—”
“Have you ever taken them before?”
“No, but I was so tired.”
“You should have started with half a pill. Damn it, Lana, you don’t know how drugs will affect your system!”
He was so mad, but there was a rawness in his voice that made my heart break a little.
“I…I didn’t know.” I’d followed the directions, but that didn’t seem to matter. And, yes, they were new to me, but I thought it’d be okay, which it was. I was fine, they just apparently knocked me out into a deep sleep.
He scrubbed a hand down his face and muttered a string of curses.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” I said quietly.
“Well, you did,” he snapped. “I woke up, you had no covers on, your skin was like fucking ice, and I couldn’t get you to open your eyes.”
I shook my head. The stupid drugs were still making things foggy, but I tried to put the pieces together. He was being kind of an ass, but he cared. I think. I shook my head again and squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them, desperate for this haze to clear.
“Why are you being mean?” I asked. At least, I was pretty sure he was being mean. I didn’t know. I wasn’t quite awake yet. I cupped my head in my palm.
“Shit,” Cal muttered, and came to sit next to me on the bed. He handed me the water again. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to yell.”
“You were taking my vitals?” I asked, sipping on the water.
He glanced away. But that was what he’d been doing. The fog was slowly clearing, and he’d been watching my heart rate. Which meant he had been worried.
“I really didn’t know they’d knock me out like that,” I said.
“Okay.” He rose to stand again. I caught his arm.
“No, not okay. Why are you so mad at me?”
His eyes shot at me like two sparkling pools of clear water. “You scared me. That’s all. It’s fine now.”
“No.” I tugged on his arm when he tried to walk away. “It’s not fine. I’m not fine. Tell me what is going on.”
“What’s going on is I woke up thinking you were fucking dead.”
I gasped. “Cal, that’s…”
“Morbid? Yeah, tell me about it.”
Pieces started clicking. Bea had said his mother died of addiction. It was hard on Cal, but this? He was so young. Barely school aged.
“Did you see her use?” Something like that would mess with a child’s mind.
“I saw her do a lot of things,” he said with disdain in his voice.
“It must have been hard when she passed—”
“She didn’t pass,” he cut me off. “She fucking died. Killed herself on accident because she couldn’t handle her shit. And I found…”
My eyes shot wide, the final piece of the puzzle slipping into place.
“You were the one that found your mother dead?” I asked softly.
He tore his arm from my grip and walked away. Oh, my God. He did. I searched my memory for the conversation. Had Bea said he was six when Cal came to live with her? It would make sense, him being a child in the house and being the first one to find her. My chest instantly broke open for him.
“Cal?” I tried again, ambling up from the bed and following him into the living room. “Cal, talk to me.”
He opened the fridge, then slammed it shut. Then he looked around the kitchen. He was lost. I saw it so clearly on his face, and he didn’t know what to do.
“Talk to me,” I asked again softly. “I scared you. Is it because you found your mom dead?”
“I didn’t just find her.” He slapped one of the cabinets shut. “I stayed with her. For a damn week!”
“What?”
He scoffed. “She OD’d on the couch, and I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her. I knew she was cold. So I covered her in a blanket and sat with her. Talked to her. She didn’t
wake up.”
“Oh, my God.” A terrifying chill ran up my spine. I couldn’t imagine what he’d gone through. How confusing and scary it was.
“Yep, I was a fucking idiot.”
“You were a child,” I said.
He just shook his head. He was getting lost in the pain. I recognized that kind of trauma. Something you thought out, constantly relived, but it never changed the outcome. It hurt to think about, yet when you did think about it, it consumed you. Then the questions came: What I could have done differently? What may have happened if only?
I didn’t want Cal to get lost to those self-loathing feelings. Because there was no escape from the spiral once it started. This strong man ran from a lot of things, it was now I realized that he ran from the past as badly as I did. Trying not to think of the one moment when your life changed forever. It also made sense why he was such a protector the way he was.
I wanted to help. To bring him back to me. To the present.
So, I had to focus on the present.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” I said again. I took a step toward him. My bare feet hitting the cold hardwood of the kitchen floor.
“Go back to bed and get warm. Stay under the covers,” he ordered.
“Cal, I’m okay. Look at me.”
He finally met my eyes, so much pain and loss and fear were plaguing him, and all I wanted to do was make it better.
“I’m right here. And I’m okay.” I reached out for him, and he looked at my hand like it was a snake ready to bite. “Please, baby,” I whispered. “Come here.”
I wanted to hold him. Support him. The way he had done for me. There was so much beyond the surface of Callum Malone that I didn’t even really know about yet. But I wanted to. I wanted to be what he needed now.
He finally took my hand, and I walked him back to bed. Keeping a tight hold, I laid down and brought him with me as I went. He resisted a little, but I kept pulling on his hand, and finally got him to lay with me—on top of me. Kicking the covers off, I wrapped my legs around his middle and my arms around his neck, and hugged him close.
“It’s okay,” I whispered in his ear.
One of his strong arms wrapped around me, while the other cupped my face.
“Don’t do that to me again,” he said.
“I won’t. I didn’t think they’d affect me like that.” I searched his face. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
Though he was terrified, he’d stayed right there, in all his worry and still made sure I was okay. I couldn’t imagine the stress and fear he’d gone through.
I kissed the side of his mouth, his cheek, and his jaw.
He turned and caught my mouth with his, kissing me deeply. But there was more this time. Fear and longing and relief.
He hugged me closer, like he was afraid I’d somehow disappear.
“I’m here,” I said. “I’m right here.”
He kissed me hard and long. So much tension and aggression and concern. If I was thinking along different lines, it would almost feel loving.
He reached between us and pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock and bury it inside of me.
“Oh!” I moaned, loving the instant connection. He hugged me tight, thrusting hard, but never retreating, simply staying deep and stirring. He was so big, so strong that I caught my breath every time he hugged me hard. But I loved the feel of being wrapped up in such power. Like he was holding on to me and silently promising me he wouldn’t let me go.
He worked his body over mine. His lower torso rubbing over my clit while he moved so deeply already had me on the brink of coming.
I locked my ankles together and grabbed him as tightly as I could, taking everything. Hoping he’d give me everything, especially some of the burden he carried.
“Cal,” I whispered over and over. He just kissed me and rocked into my body like he was afraid to leave it.
“Lana…” he said my name and looked me in the eyes. With another powerful thrust, my orgasm burned slow, creeping up my spine and taking over my skin like thick lava. I couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to. I just gasped and watched him watch me. He kissed my lower lip, then gritted his teeth, and I felt his release shoot from him and carry my pleasure even higher.
Connected.
Holding each other so tight I didn’t want to ever let go. Didn’t want to be let go of.
And Cal was there, with all the mystery and pain and past that came with him. All things I wanted to know more about. I wanted to be what he needed. And I was afraid I might never understand the extent of his fear.
Chapter 16
The rest of week passed in a blur. Cal had been working several days, and I spent most of my time huddled inside my home. He didn’t talk about his past any more. And I didn’t push him. He’d told me what had happened, but how he dealt with it seemed to be a constant thing in his world. I only hoped he’d let me be a part of it. So far, he was. And I was thankful for that.
The shopping craze after Thanksgiving was finally subsiding, and I was making good progress on my classes and thesis. It was ever growing and changing, and my first meeting with my new advisor was now scheduled on Tuesdays, so I likely wouldn’t run into Erica, and by proxy, Brock. I didn’t know if that was done on purpose or not. But Professor Walker was a nice man in his late fifties. I had him for a class last year, so at least I was with someone I knew.
He had given me some good feedback, and we were going to meet one more time, really polish my proposal, then he would take it to the board after next week’s meeting.
For now¸ I strolled down the streets of Golden, looked at the small shops, and tugged my scarf tighter around my neck. All the Christmas decorations were out, and things felt like holiday happiness. I still couldn’t get Erica out of my mind. At some point, everything would come out, it always did. For now, I had no choice but to stay away.
I looked at a display of a sled with wrapped presents in the window and a reflection caught my eye. A man on the other side of the street with dark hair and a tall build caught my attention.
I turned around. He was on the other side of the street and further down in a black wool coat, perfect posture, and broad shoulders…
“Jack,” I whispered.
I went to walk across the street, but was cut off by a car. The man moved, walking down a side street and away from me. I wanted to call out. To have him stop.
It couldn’t be him.
I couldn’t tell, but my heart leapt into my throat with both hope and fear. When I finally made it across the street and down the alley, he’d gone. I caught myself thinking:
What if it was him?
What if it wasn’t?
What would I say?
It didn’t matter. Nothing registered. I just had to know if it was him. I hustled faster, but there was no one there. A small parking lot on the back side of the building was all I found. Not a soul in sight. Not a car that looked like it could be Jack’s.
I closed my eyes and shook my head. I didn’t know how to feel or what to think. This would happen. Unless Jack moved away forever, which wasn’t the case since his family was here, I’d see him at some point.
The problem was, I just chased after what could have been him. To what end?
Hell if I knew.
I went after a shadow of what could have been my past. A past that had walked out on me. And then I decided to move—away from Jack and toward the man who would chase me to the ends of the earth. A man who had taken me to the edge of the world and didn’t let go.
I made my way back toward Main Street and caught the smell of the local coffee shop. I wondered if they served spiked peppermint mochas this time in the afternoon.
~
I stirred the dip, which was sour cream and an onion soup packet, about the extent of my “cooking skills,” and balanced the phone between my ear and shoulder.
“So, you’re having a good time?” I asked Harper.
“Yeah, family is crazy, but
it’s good.” Harper had a handful of brothers and sisters, and parents that were still together. Everyone was loud and nosy, but it all came from a place of love. I could hear everyone chatting in the background. I was glad I’d stayed behind, because while Harper’s family was wonderful, they all had their own lives, and I wasn’t really a part of it.
“I miss you,” she said.
“I miss you too.”
“How are things going with Cal?”
I breathed deep. “Pretty well. I like him. A lot. He’s…different.”
“Different good or different than Jack?”
Of course, Harper wouldn’t miss that. “Both.”
The last few weeks, I’d seen differences and similarities and realized that Bea was right, they picked up the slack in the areas the other one lacked.
“I wanted to check in because I’ve been working remotely. I may stay here for another few weeks until after Christmas.”
“Oh!” I said, pausing mid-stir.
“Will you be okay with me gone that long?”
I thought about that. I’d been without Harper before, a week here and there, but this was already extended. Still, she had a life and a family.
“Of course, I’m fine. You have a great time and enjoy your family.”
“Call if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
We hung up and I grabbed a bag of chips and set it next to the dip. That was my contribution to tonight. A night I was a little nervous about, actually.
I checked the mirror one more time, my sweater and jeans still in place. Make-up was good. Now, I just waited. Cal would be here any minute and yet, I stared at my phone and did the one thing I shouldn’t.
I dialed my dad.
After seeing him before Thanksgiving, he’d been plaguing my thoughts more. It was sick, but I wondered how he was. If he was okay. He’d made it clear for me to stay away. For whatever reason, I wanted to hear his voice. Because the one moment we had, where he’d acknowledged there was a life before Anita, before Brock, pinged my chest and it wouldn’t subside.
When I got his voicemail for the hundredth time in months, it was no surprise, yet the sting of realizing he didn’t want to talk to me hurt.