by I. T. Lucas
He was lucky beyond belief.
Splaying his hands over her tight little ass, he gripped her and licked in bliss, making growling sounds while at it to let her know how much he loved eating her up.
The growling must’ve excited Tessa. She moaned around his shaft and took him deeper.
When he let go of one hip and pushed a finger inside her tight wetness, she groaned, the vibrations almost sending him over.
He wasn’t going to last. But he’d be damned if he didn’t bring her to the finish line first.
Withdrawing his finger, Jackson came back with two and flicked his tongue over her clit. Her juices running down his fingers and unto his chin, Tessa groaned again and took him all the way to the back of her throat.
This time he was all for it.
As he shouted his release and pushed deeper, her tight channel contracted around his fingers. Driven by instinct, Jackson moved his mouth to the side, flicked his tongue over a soft spot on her inner thigh, and bit down.
Tessa climaxed again.
When the fog lifted from his blood-deprived brain, Jackson felt her little tongue licking him clean. The venom wasn’t affecting her as strongly as it had the first couple of times. He, on the other hand, was losing his fucking mind every time he bit her.
Damn it. He shouldn’t have come inside her mouth.
Lifting her up by her hips, he turned her around and laid her over him like a blanket. Exhausted, she put her head on his chest and sighed.
He cupped her cheeks and lifted her head. “I’m sorry, kitten, can you forgive me?” He looked into her eyes.
A satisfied smile spread over her sweet face. “What am I supposed to forgive you for?”
“I didn’t plan on coming in your mouth.”
She braced her elbows on his chest and rested her chin in the cradle of her laced fingers. “I know you didn’t plan to do it, but I’m glad you did.”
From his experience, very few girls actually liked that part.
“Are you sure? Because I don’t want you to do anything you don’t enjoy. And I don’t mean just the things you really hate, but also the stuff you think I like but you could do without. I want you to do only what brings you pleasure.”
Tessa smiled and dipped her head to plant a soft kiss on his lips. “I did enjoy it because it was you. Giving you pleasure makes me feel wonderful. I’m sure you get it because I know you feel the same.”
“I do.”
She kissed him again. “You better marry me, Jackson, because I don’t want to ever be with anyone else.”
His arms came around her in what would have been a crushing hug if he hadn’t reminded himself to be careful with her. “I’m yours, Tessa, forever. There will never be anyone else. For you or for me.”
CHAPTER 23: CALLIE
“Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Callie waved at Miri before ducking into the employee lounge —a small room with a row of lockers on one wall, hooks for hanging things on the other, and one wooden bench. Not as nice as the one at Aussie’s, but then no one ever hung out in there. It was a place to store personal stuff and not much more. Franco couldn’t afford a lavish lounge for his employees. Not yet. Maybe once Brundar helped him make the place more profitable he would.
Opening her locker, Callie collected her purse and her light jacket. The club was always warm, but it was getting cold outside at night. Unable to help herself, she pulled her phone out, hoping like an idiot to see a message from Brundar, or maybe even a missed call, but of course there was nothing.
Third day in a row and no Brundar. Not in person or any other way.
After the talk she’d had with her neighbor, Callie itched to confront Brundar about his deception. But after having a full day to cool off, she’d decided to wait and see if he’d confess. Maybe she would drop hints, leading him to talk about it.
The problem was that he was avoiding her again. Just when she’d thought they were making progress, he’d retreated into his shell, and was hiding from her like a coward.
That evening, he hadn't even shown up at the club.
Callie had been waiting to catch Franco and ask him if Brundar had called him. Maybe he was sick and couldn’t come in, or something had happened to him…
Crap. She shouldn’t give a damn, but she was worried about the jerk.
Except, Franco had been busy in the basement and hadn’t surfaced at the nightclub throughout her shift. Unless he had, and she’d missed him because she’d been taking orders or delivering drinks.
Should she text Brundar?
Ask him if he was okay? A bodyguard’s job was inherently dangerous.
Now that her thoughts had wandered in that direction, her worry kicked into overdrive. She had to text him. Otherwise she wouldn’t be able to sleep.
Hi, just checking if you’re alive. With her finger hovering over the send button, she decided to add I’m worried. Just in case he got mad at her for texting him.
A couple of minutes later he answered, and the tightness in her chest eased.
Working.
At least he was alive. But would it have killed him to ask if she was doing okay? Show that he cared even a little?
He was such an infuriating man. When he was near her, she felt that he cared, that he liked her as a person, and that he liked spending time with her. But when he was away, Brundar behaved like she didn’t exist, like nothing had happened between them, and like he didn’t give a damn about her.
How did the saying go? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? In Brundar’s case, it was more like out of sight, out of mind.
She put the phone back in her purse and headed outside.
“Hi, Donnie. Ready to call it a night?”
“I was waiting for you, girl.”
“Thanks. Brad was a no-show, and Franco spent the entire night in the basement. So I guess you’re stuck with me.”
Donnie wrapped his thick arm around her shoulders. “I love walking you home.”
The truth was that he never complained and was always upbeat during their walks. He was such a nice guy. Why the hell did she have to go for the complicated and the troubled?
If Donnie were her boyfriend, he would probably call her and text her throughout the day and be happy if she called and texted back. That was what normal couples did. Wasn’t it?
But Donnie had his eye on someone else. Besides, as hunky as he was, she wasn’t attracted to him.
“Are you going to give Fran your comic this weekend?”
Donnie shook his head. “I’m too big of a chicken.”
Callie chuckled. “An enormous chicken. The size of a bull. But seriously, why not?”
“What if she thinks it’s stupid?”
Callie patted his bicep. “Then she is not worthy of you, and you should set your sights on someone who thinks your comics are fabulous.”
“Would you mind taking a look at it?”
She stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Mind? I’ve been asking you to show me your work since the night you told me about it. I’m dying to see it.”
Donnie patted his jacket. “I have one in here.”
“Then you must come up and show me.”
He looked unsure. “I don’t know about that. Do you think Brad is going to be okay with that?”
Callie pulled out the key to the building’s front door and unlocked it. “Brad has no say in who I invite to my apartment.”
She held the door open, but Donnie didn’t come in. “It’s the middle of the night.”
She reached for his jacket, grabbing it to pull him in. Not that she was under any illusions that she could’ve moved that mountain of muscle if he hadn’t let her, but it seemed Donnie needed the pretense of being coerced. “Come on. I’ll make us coffee, and you’ll show me your work.”
“Fine. But if Brad rearranges my face, it’s on you.”
“Donnie, what are you worried about? You don’t even need to fight him, you can sit on him. You outweigh him by about a hu
ndred pounds.” Callie kept walking, Donnie’s sneakers making squeaking sounds behind her.
“I don’t know about that. He is freakishly strong.”
“How so?” Callie opened the door to the staircase and waited for Donnie to catch up.
“Once, when I was sitting in my car in the club’s parking lot, I saw him pick up a Suburban with one hand. He must’ve dropped something, and it rolled under the car. He just held the thing up and reached with his other hand for whatever was under it, then lowered the Suburban back down as if it was a cardboard box filled with toilet paper.”
“Impressive. But I think you could’ve done it too.”
“I could. With two hands and a grunt.”
“Nevertheless, as I told you before, Brad has no say in whom I invite over. I can entertain whomever I want, whenever I want.”
Subconsciously, Callie suspected Brundar hadn’t told her the truth about where he was and what he was doing. Now that Donnie was going on and on about not wanting to anger her so-called boyfriend by coming up to her apartment, her own anger was pushing the subconscious suspicion to the surface.
She could accept that on occasion Brundar’s cousin would need his bodyguards in the evenings, or even on an out of town trip. But while in town, this time of night the big shot was most likely asleep in his bed.
For as long as she’d known Brundar, which admittedly wasn’t all that long, he worked for the cousin during the day and at Franco’s during the evenings and nights, which meant that the cousin didn’t need his services while at home.
Only two scenarios could support Brundar’s claim of working that late at night. One was that the cousin was making a transaction at night, which implied some illegal activity she knew Brundar wouldn’t have taken part in, and the other was that he was partying somewhere and needed his bodyguards with him. Which again, didn’t follow the normal pattern of Brundar’s employment.
Something smelled fishy.
Callie opened the door to her apartment and flicked the lights on.
Donnie took a look around. “Nice place.”
“Thanks.” She dropped her purse on the kitchen counter and grabbed the carafe. “Make yourself comfortable while I make coffee.”
Donnie sat on the couch, opened his jacket, and pulled a rolled up comic out of an inside pocket that must’ve been really deep.
Watching him flip through the pages while she loaded the coffeemaker, Callie observed that his sitting pose was nowhere near relaxed. The poor guy was anxious to see her response to his work.
He shouldn’t be. She was going to gush all over it even if it wasn’t great. Friends didn’t put friends down. Not unless she thought it was a complete disaster and he shouldn’t waste his time on it. But even then she would only suggest that he take a course to improve his skills.
When the coffee was ready, she loaded a tray with two cups, some sugar cubes, creamer, and a few store-bought cookies. As talented as she was with cooking, Callie sucked at baking.
“Okay. I’m ready for the grand reveal.” She lowered the tray to the coffee table.
Donnie handed her the comic, then got busy with the coffee, dropping in several sugar cubes and following with creamer.
As soon as Callie opened the comic, she had to slap her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Not only because it depicted Brundar with uncanny accuracy, but also because she was relieved that Donnie was really good and she wouldn’t have to pretend to be impressed.
“That’s Brad.” She pointed to the comic’s hero. Donnie hadn’t changed anything. The same long pale hair, the same austere expression, just the clothes were different. The comic hero was wearing leather pants and a muscle shirt.
Donnie nodded. “He is so perfect for the role, I couldn’t change a single thing about him.”
“And that’s Miri.” Callie pointed to the hero’s sidekick. “But you said she didn’t fit as his sidekick, and that you needed someone less colorful.”
“I decided she does. What do you think?”
“I think you’re amazing. This is so well done. But I have second thoughts about you showing this to Fran. She might tell Brad. Or Miri.”
Donnie pretended to shiver. “Right. I don’t know who’s scarier.”
“I have an idea.”
He lifted a brow.
“Make a comic strip starring Fran. Nothing elaborate, just a page or two. There is no way she wouldn’t go out with you after seeing how much effort you’ve gone to and how talented you are. Make sure she looks amazing in it. It’s a rare woman who is immune to flattery. I’m sure Fran isn’t.”
Donnie clapped her on the back. “Callie, you’re a genius.”
CHAPTER 24: BRUNDAR
Brundar’s rotation had ended when the sun came up at five in the morning. There had been one false alarm, a drunk couple necking in a parking lot, but thankfully no murders.
If he didn’t have a full workday ahead of him, Brundar would’ve gone straight to Calypso. That one text had shattered his resolve to try and stay away from her as much as he possibly could.
She’d been worried about him.
Or perhaps he was just looking for an excuse. Blaming Calypso for his weakness was much easier than admitting he had no willpower where she was concerned.
He was so screwed.
At this stage, no matter what he did, they were both going to get hurt.
There was no elegant solution.
After a quick shower, he lay down in bed, trying to catch a couple of hours of shuteye before having to report to Onegus for his daily duties. But sleep eluded him. All he could think of was Calypso; her sexy smile, her bright green eyes, her laughter.
She’d been through so much, and yet she seemed happy. He would’ve expected her to be reserved, subdued, maybe even a little sad. But she’d proved to be more resilient than he’d given her credit for. Or maybe it was in her character to be upbeat and positive, and external forces had little to do with how she felt.
Did it mean that he was naturally unhappy and cold? And that what had happened to him hadn’t really shaped who he was?
Those were questions better addressed to a professional, and Brundar wasn’t planning on visiting Vanessa anytime soon. Or ever. Maybe he could buy a book on the subject. Get some information without visiting a bloody shrink.
Later, while waiting for Kian to be done with his lunch meeting, Brundar was bored enough actually to search the Internet for such a book, but he didn’t find anything he was interested in reading. It could have had something to do with Anandur peeking over his shoulder and asking him what he was looking for. The truth was that he wasn’t much of a reader. Whatever little free time he had was usually spent training, and lately with Calypso.
Damnation. He couldn’t wait for his tasks for the day to be done so he could go to her. So much for willpower.
At four o'clock, after completing a short investigative assignment Onegus had sent him on, Brundar informed the chief Guardian that he was leaving early.
“Go get some sleep. You look like hell.” Onegus allowed him to cut one hour off his schedule. After spending most of the night on rotation, he shouldn’t even have to ask.
Nevertheless, sleeping was not what Brundar had in mind.
Fighting against Calypso’s pull was like resisting an elastic tether, but one that was made of carbon fibers. At first, there had been some give, the pull bearable, but with each passing hour the pull became stronger, and digging his heels in the ground wasn’t helping.
Brundar parked his car in front of her building and pulled out the keys to its front door from the glove compartment, but then reconsidered and put them back. After neglecting her for so long, it would be inappropriate for him to come unannounced.
He walked up to the door and punched the buzzer.
A moment later, he heard the door lock release, but not a word from Calypso. She was allowing him in but refusing to acknowledge him. Obviously, she was mad. He couldn’t blame her.
; Taking the stairs two at a time, he was at her door a couple of moments later. It was ajar, and he pushed it in.
Sitting on the couch, Calypso was watching a show on the tube, ignoring him. Perhaps she hadn’t heard him?
Brundar cleared his throat. “May I come in?”
“You’re already in.”
Yep, she was mad. But that wasn’t the only thing that made him tense.
There were two new scents in the apartment. An old one, female, and a recent one, male.
He crossed the distance to the couch and stood in front of Calypso, blocking her view of the television. “Who was here?”
“None of your business.”
Damn it. He couldn’t tell her that he could smell people’s residual scents long after they had left. But then she hadn’t denied having someone over.
“I asked you to text me if you invite anyone in here.”
“I was in no danger from either.”
He crouched, forcing Calypso to look at his face and not his belt buckle. “Are you angry?”
She rolled her eyes. “Duh.”
He tilted his head. “About what?”
“Don’t play dumb, Brundar. You know exactly why.”
“Because I didn’t come over for a few days?”
If looks could kill he would’ve been dead already. Calypso’s green eyes were shooting daggers at him. “Because you didn’t call. Because you didn’t text to let me know you’re alive, and because your answer to my text was super jerky.” She crossed her arms over her heaving chest.
Scratching his head, he tried to remember what his answer had been. “I said I was working.”
“Yeah, you did. And that was it. You didn’t ask how I was, or if everything was okay. Nothing. You made me feel like the clingy clueless girlfriend who should’ve gotten it through her head that you’re not interested but didn’t.” She looked away. “Well, you succeeded.”
“Succeeded in doing what?”
“Ugh, you’re infuriating. I get it that you’re not interested. You can go home.” She pointed at the door.