Cautious: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by Candice Wright

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I have a sweet tooth and could really eat a cookie right now.”

  She elbows me in the ribs before storming ahead, making me smile.

  I jog to catch up to her as she opens her door and place my hand on her arm. When she looks over her shoulder at me with a flash of vulnerability shining in her eyes, my smile drops as pure need washes over me. Fuck it.

  I spin her gently and push her up against the wall just inside her door and press my much larger body against hers, loving how she feels against me.

  Gazing up at me in surprise, she chews nervously on her lip as her heart beats wildly against my chest.

  “What are you—” she whispers, but I cut her off, pressing my lips to hers like I’ve wanted to do since the second I saw her this morning.

  She gasps in shock, her lips parting in surprise, which I use to my advantage and surge inside, moaning at the taste of her. Sweet tea and cherry, I think. Whatever it is, it's fucking addictive. I slide my tongue against hers, coaxing her to play with me and before I know it, she goes languid in my arms, gripping my shirt hard with both hands and pulling me into her. Callie’s tongue slides against mine, teasing and hesitant.

  Her little moans are driving me insane and are the reason I pull back, as I’m two seconds away from fucking her up against the wall.

  “What the heck?” she murmurs, her lust-filled eyes searching mine.

  “Now you won't have to worry about the kiss goodnight after our date. I thought it would be easier if we got it out of the way,” I joke, not wanting her to know that I lost control.

  “Out of the way?” she parrots.

  “Yeah, out of the way,” I tease, unable to resist another soft press against her lips. Definitely sweet tea and cherry Chapstick.

  “I’m still nervous,” she whispers, making me pull back and look at her.

  “You are?” Shit, I don't want her to be nervous.

  “Yeah, there's a lot of pressure to get the first kiss right. We should practice so when we have our first kiss, we knock it out of the park.”

  I laugh, pressing into her, but I’m careful to keep my hips away from hers so I don't freak her out by showing her how hard I am.

  “You realize that this is our first kiss, right?”

  “No, this doesn't count. This is just for practice, like pre-kissing,” she says with a smile, the smartass.

  “Pre-kissing, huh. Are there rules for pre-kissing?” I question, already wondering how I can use this to my advantage.

  “Nope, that's the beauty of pre-kissing. There is no pressure and no expectations. Like I said, it's just practicing.” She shrugs, looking pretty proud of herself.

  “Interesting. I’ve never heard of this pre-kissing before, but I can understand the merits of it.” I wonder if she’ll let me pre-kiss her anywhere else.

  Dipping my head, I place a kiss on her jaw, then move my thumb over the spot I kissed. Tilting her head back, I place another kiss just below her ear, dragging in a lungful of her strawberry-scented shampoo. Whispering softly, I trail kisses down her neck to her shoulder then use my fingers to slide the strap of her tank top down her arm. I continue to rain kisses along her collarbone, marveling at the softness of her skin. When I feel her trembling, I slide the strap back into place and kiss the tip of her nose.

  “Oh yeah, I can definitely see the merits,” I growl against her lips.

  “You’re dangerous, Mr. Bundy.”

  I chuckle as I pull away and force my body out the still-open door. Turning to face her once I’ve cleared the bottom step, I grin unrepentantly when I see her still looking a little flustered. At least I know she wants me as much as I want her.

  “Lock up, Callie.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Bundy,” she replies with a salute.

  “Not a serial killer,” I remind her as I head back to my truck with a smile on my face.

  Chapter Five

  Callie

  “Vodka or tequila?” I mutter to myself as I stand in the middle of the alcohol section of the supermarket.

  “The answer is always both.”

  I turn at the sound of the feminine voice and see a beautiful strawberry-blonde woman standing just behind me looking amused.

  “Crap. I’m sorry, am I in your way?”

  “No, you’re fine. I just heard you mumbling to yourself and had to come over. My husband thinks I’m crazy when I mumble to myself. Now I know I’m not alone.”

  I snort at her rambling. “We’re not crazy. Let me just ask my other personality.” I pause for dramatic effect before answering. “No, definitely not crazy,” I tell her straight-faced and watch as she throws her head back and laughs.

  “Oh, I like you. I’m Emerson,” she says with a smile.

  Thankfully, she doesn’t hold her hand out for me to shake. I’ve always found the concept of shaking hands really odd. I’m not great with strangers, as my mouth usually engages before my brain does, but the thought of having to touch them is even worse and always freaks me out a little. Every time I’m forced to do it, I wonder how many penises they’ve touched. Yeah, I know that's not normal behavior but when you’ve thought it once, you can't unthink it.

  “I’m Callie. It's nice to meet you,” I introduce myself and wait for the awkwardness to kick in. Only it doesn’t, as Emerson is surprisingly easy to talk to even if it is about nothing more than which vodka brand is better.

  "There you are,” a deep voice calls.

  I smile when a handsome, dark-haired man steps up behind Emerson and wraps one of his arms around her.

  “Detective sexy,” she purrs, making me chuckle.

  He rolls his eyes before looking at me in exasperation. He’s a handsome guy, but after encountering Blake’s level of hotness, I think I’ve built up a certain amount of immunity.

  “Ignore my wife. She thinks she’s hilarious,” the man retorts, scowling when she elbows him in the ribs.

  “I am hilarious, and there’s nothing wrong with finding my husband sexy.” She huffs, but he just smiles at her, murmuring something as he kisses her temple.

  Lord, these two are going to give me a toothache. “I think it's sweet. And you should count yourself lucky. I don't know how long you've been married, but I’m sure you've annoyed her plenty, and in her head, she’s called you a few less than flattering names. It could always be worse,” I point out.

  “Well, she’s not wrong,” Emerson teases him.

  “Ladies, detective sexy,” a laughing voice that makes a cascade of butterflies erupt in my stomach calls from behind me. A moment later, Blake steps up beside me, nudging my shoulder, offering me a sexy wink.

  Can winks even be sexy? My disintegrating panties seem to think so.

  “Fuck you, Price,” the detective bites out, but there’s no heat behind his words.

  “Well, we can add stalking to your list of attributes, Mr. Bundy,” I mutter but clearly not quietly enough.

  “Bundy?” The detective laughs. “It seems you're right,” he says, looking at me, “it could definitely be worse.”

  “Hey, Blake, how’s your grandmother?” Emerson asks, deftly changing the subject, giving me a moment to take a deep breath and wrangle my wayward libido under control.

  “She’s doing okay. Stubborn, just like usual. I wouldn't be surprised if she was running a marathon this time next year,” Blake answers with a shake of his head, making Emerson laugh.

  “That sounds like June. Tell her I’ll pop around one of these days and bring Gwen. Oh, shoot, we need to go. Gwen’s gymnastics class is getting out in a minute. Callie, we should meet up for coffee sometime.”

  “Sure, I’d like that. I’m in the house next door to June, and I work from home, so I’m usually about. Just knock when you’re free.” Look how social I can be when I try.

  “Perfect. Well, it was nice to meet you, Callie. Blake, always a pleasure,” Emerson adds with a smirk.

  “You too. Bye, guys.” I wave as she tur
ns to leave, dragging her husband behind her shaking his head. I have a feeling Emerson has only one speed and that's turbo.

  “Later,” he calls over his shoulder before dutifully following his wife.

  I turn to look at Blake, who is staring down at me with warm eyes. Warm eyes that make me warm in other places too. Gah. Damn him and his sexiness.

  “And what can I do for you today, Bundy? Need a hair sample to add to your trophy collection? Oh wait, how about a pair of my panties?”

  “Well, I actually came for some milk as we’ve run out at the office but if you're offering me your panties, I think I’ll take those instead,” he answers, his voice full of promise.

  “Of course you would!” I grumble, flushing over how ridiculously wet said panties are right now.

  I turn away, needing to stop looking at the guy that makes me go gaga stupid. With a toss of my hair, I reach over and take Emerson's advice, adding a bottle of both tequila and vodka to my basket.

  “Here, let me carry that for you,” Blake offers, sliding the basket from my hands before I can protest. He hooks it over his forearm and snags my hand with his free one. What the hell is going on here?

  “What are you doing?” I ask, looking around for the hidden camera. I’m not trying to be self-deprecating here but on the scale of hotness I’m a seven and he’s a one hundred twelve. Why is he chasing after me?

  “I’m doing what everyone else is here doing—shopping?” he answers like I’m being dense. Okay, so that's how he wants to play it, huh? Fine.

  I take him down the feminine hygiene aisle and toss in a few boxes of tampons, making sure to grab the superflow pads, but he doesn’t even squirm. Figures.

  Of course, the aisle facing this one is the one filled with condoms. Throwing me a devastating smile, he tosses a box of XL condoms and a large bottle of lube into the basket, making me splutter at his audacity.

  “Anything else?” he asks casually as my skin heats.

  “No, let's just go,” I growl and stomp toward the checkout. It isn’t until the cashier starts scanning everything with Blake beaming down at me with that cocky damn smile on his face that I get an idea. He seems to like making me squirm, let’s see how he feels about it when the tables are turned. Time for a little payback.

  As she picks up the condoms, I frown at her and lift my hand to stop her movements.

  “Excuse me, I’m sorry but it seems like my boyfriend here has picked up the wrong box. Could we maybe get them swapped please?” I say apologetically with what I’m hoping is a super sweet smile.

  “Oh sure, no problem. Which ones would you prefer?” she asks with her finger over the button of the speaker system.

  “The brand is fine, thanks, but can you see if they have any extra, extra small please?” I ask her, making her lips twitch.

  “Callie,” Blake warns from beside me, but I just smile that same saccharine sweet smile up at him that I gave the cashier, ignoring the snickers from the people in the line behind us.

  “Sue, can you please see if we have any extra, extra small condoms, please.” the cashier calls over the speaker system, managing to hold back her chuckle even as the people around the store laugh.

  “You are going to have a nice pink ass by the time I’ve finished spanking you,” Blake whispers in my ear, making me gasp.

  Asshole. I look at the cashier again and smile even bigger.

  “I’m sorry, but do you also happen to sell anything for erectile dysfunction?” I inquire.

  More laughter erupts behind us, but then the man beside me growls before bending down and tossing me over his shoulder.

  “Hey, my stuff!” I shout but he slaps my ass hard enough to sting, making me bite my tongue.

  I bounce around over his shoulder before I hear a beep of locks disengaging and I find myself sitting in the passenger seat of an SUV.

  “What the heck?” But I don't get anything else out before his body is leaning down over me, pressing me back into the seat as his lips descend upon mine.

  He swallows down my protests, his tongue demanding entrance and my body putting up zero resistance. I slide my hands over his chest with every intention of pushing him away, but as his heat warms my body and his taste smashes through my defenses, I find myself gripping his t-shirt and pulling him closer.

  When he finally pulls away, what might be five minutes or five hours later, I just stare at him, my mouth open in shock.

  “It seems I’ve finally found a way to get you to stop talking,” he muses, making me glare at him when his words penetrate the sex fog clouding my brain.

  Goddammit, he did it again!

  Before I can cuss him out, he presses another kiss to my lips, this one just a peck.

  “It seems I found your Kryptonite. Be right back,” he says before disappearing back into the store, leaving me dazed once more.

  What the hell is happening? Did I go to sleep last night and wake up in a romance novel? What’s next, swooning?

  He returns five minutes later with a bag of groceries in each hand. I watch in silence as he pops them in the trunk before climbing into the driver's seat.

  “You know, Bundy used to lure his victims to his car,” I point out, still feeling a little flustered.

  “Is that right?” he answers with an amused smile.

  He pulls away from the parking lot, so I clip my seat belt into place.

  “You know, I could have had my car with me.”

  “Trust me, I would have noticed if that giant booger was in the parking lot.”

  Well, I can't argue with that, now can I?

  Chapter Six

  Blake

  I pull up outside my offices, already knowing she doesn't have anything perishable in the back, so there is no reason for her to hurry home. What I don't know is why I’ve decided to bring her here. You like her close, a little voice whispers, but I shut it down, not ready to read too much into this thing between us yet.

  I’ve known her less than twenty-four hours, and I’ve already tongue fucked her on her doorstep and in the front seat of my car. I can’t remember the last time I ever felt so out of control.

  “Where are we?” she questions as I turn off the engine.

  “These are my offices. It’s bring-a-hellcat-to-work day today,” I claim, straight-faced.

  “Haha, you are just hilarious,” she sasses, not waiting for me to open her door for her as she climbs out on her own.

  “Next time, wait for me to get the door,” I order when she makes it around the car, placing my hand on the small of her back as I lead her inside.

  “Why?”

  Can’t she ever just do as she’s told?

  “Because my grandmother would have my ass if she found out I didn’t use my manners.” And that’s no lie.

  “Really?”

  Something in her tone has me looking down at her.

  “So, she wouldn't take kindly to you picking me up, throwing me bodily over your shoulder, and then fornicating with me in the parking lot of the local supermarket?” she probes.

  “Who’s fornicating? Wait, is it still called fornicating or is it just Netflix and chillin’?” Marcus asks as he strides out from the back with a file in his hand.

  I watch as Callie's mouth drops open as she tilts her head up to look at Marcus.

  Marcus is a big guy, the tallest of all of us, and with jet black hair, dark green eyes and tribal tattoos that peek out of the edge of his white t-shirt, he always draws attention wherever we go.

  “Callie, this is Marcus. Marcus, Callie. She just moved in next door to my grandmother,” I tell him as he smiles the smile that has women flocking to him. Keep it up, fucker.

  She just stares at him, not blinking, not saying anything for a moment, making Marcus look at me in question.

  “Callie?” I nudge her, wondering what happened to chatty Cathy.

  She places her hand over the side of her mouth, hiding it from Marcus’s view but she doesn’t quiet her voice when she sp
eaks.

  “I’m trying to remember the politically polite way to tell a hot stranger they have food in their teeth.”

  “You think he’s hot?” I growl, not liking the idea one fucking bit.

  “I have eyes,” she says with a laugh, like that answers everything. Maybe I need to kiss her again.

  “Oh, shit!” Marcus chuckles, grabbing a bottle of water and swilling his mouth before smiling at her once more. “Better?”

  She steps closer to look before nodding.

  “Yep, all gone. Don’t worry, Popeye, it happens to us all.”

  “Popeye?” I question, looking between them. So now Marcus has a nickname too? Yep, definitely need to kiss her and remind her who she belongs to.

  Wait. Where the fuck did that come from?

  “Popeye seems like a good name for a man with spinach in his teeth,” she answers with a shrug.

  I can’t help but laugh, suddenly not feeling nearly as bothered by it as I was a moment ago. “Stop embarrassing my men,” I mock scold her, making her open her eyes wider before she rushes to apologize to Marcus.

  “Lord, I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have said anything, but then what if you see a hot girl and you smile, and she is all ‘Eww, nasty,’ and then your potential future wife slips through your fingers?”

  Marcus is smiling big now, clearly finding her as amusing as I do.

  “I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t want to marry a woman who would walk away from me just because I had something stuck in my teeth,” he rightly points out.

  “Well, I guess that depends on what is stuck in your teeth.”

  “Okay, I have to know,” he says curiously. “Pretend you are my girl. Name one thing that, if you saw it stuck in my teeth, you'd leave me for.” He winks, making me glare at him as I move closer to her and place a possessive hand on her hip.

  Mine, asshole.

  She stands there thinking, making both Marcus and me smile because he is right in what he said. No woman worth having would leave a man just because he has something stuck in his teeth.