CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1)

by Kristina Weaver

  As I danced, I ran my hands over my own hips, my expanding belly, my breasts. Grant tugged at the tie around his wrists, but it wasn’t going anywhere. And then I reached behind me and tugged at my zipper, pulling the thing down with a slow, easy movement. My dress split down the back, the three-quarter sleeves threatening to slide off without any help. I crossed my arms over my chest, catching the shoulders of the dress and slowing their release. Grant’s eyes were glued to my chest, waiting for the moment when it would be revealed. I made him wait as long as I could.

  I turned my back to him when I stepped out of the dress. He groaned, but then the sound turned into something else as I reached back and tugged at the clasp of my bra. It didn’t come free as easily as the dress. But it did come free and fall from my heavy breasts. I turned, dressed only in a pair of panties, my arms crossed over my breasts.

  Grant leaned forward, like he wanted to get off the couch.

  “You’re driving me insane,” he practically growled.

  “Good. That was the plan.”

  I crossed to him and climbed into his lap again, touching his face as I stole another kiss. He groaned against my lips.

  “Undo my hands. I want to touch you.”

  “Not yet.”

  And then I slid to my knees. He leaned his head back and the sounds coming from his throat would never let me forget what my touch did to him. I pulled at his slacks, releasing the button and zipper, the back of my fingers brushing the shaft that hid behind his briefs. He lifted his hips quite willingly to help me free him of his pants. Then I brushed my lips against his inner thigh as I pressed my hand against the bulge of his briefs. Again those noises…they made my juices run more than anything else he could do.

  I wanted to tease him, to play with him the same way he does with me sometimes. But this need to be a part of him, to feel the life coursing through him, to feel alive in his arms was too strong to ignore.

  I tugged his briefs up and reached inside to free his cock. He was impossibly hard, his pulse vibrating through his shaft as I held him. I stroked him for a moment, watching his face as his eyes rolled back in his head. Then I ran my thumb over his head, coating it in the fluid of his precum, licking it away when he focused on me long enough to understand what it was I was doing.

  “God, baby,” he moaned, again tugging at the restraint on his wrists.

  I stroked him a little longer, reaching into his briefs to cup his balls with my other hand. Again he leaned his head back, a moan like nothing I’d ever heard before escaping his lips. I rolled his balls in their sacks, enjoying the feel of his virility there in my hand. And then I took him in my mouth, with no warning, swallowing as much of him as I could. I thought the poor man was going to jump off the loveseat.

  There is nothing more life affirming than sex. Holding the power to bring such a man to his knees in my hands was invigorating. Feeling life pulse through him in the blood that made him erect—that beat against my hand, my lips—feeling the heat of him, the virility of him, remembering it was this body that placed a new life inside of me…it pushed away the darkness that had settled over me the moment my dad died.

  When he was close, when I could feel his need building inside of him, I pulled away. I stood and slowly slipped out of my panties. And then I climbed on top of him and guided him inside of me, moving carefully as he slowly filled me.

  “I need to touch you,” he said, his eyes locked on mine, hooded with a need like I’d never seen before.

  I shook my head even as I closed my eyes, sitting up and moving so that he touched me in all the right places. It felt different. Good. But different. He moved his hips as I rocked against him, the tip of his cock touching things deep inside of me that sent rockets cascading over my nerve endings. He was so close, I could feel him swelling just moments after I mounted him. But I was right there with him, so aroused just by his arousal that we both slipped over that edge at almost the same time. I buried my fingers against his shoulder, biting back a scream. And then I collapsed on top of him, reveling in the race of his heartbeat and the gasps of his breath.

  Only then did I release his hands. Only then did I succumb to what I knew I was barely holding off. Only then did I free myself of a little more of the poisonous buildup of grief.

  Grant just held me, knowing me well enough that that was all he could do.

  Chapter 29

  To say we were busy over the next six weeks was like saying the president of the United States had a few things to do each day. Taking on CQ’s office complex was a logistical nightmare that required long hours at the office that I was more than willing to put in. It felt good to be busy. It kept my mind in a better place.

  I was at the site late one afternoon, looking past my growing belly as I walked over plywood that had been laid down to keep everyone out of the mud. My feet ached inside my heavy work boots. I’d been touring project sites since early this morning and this was my last stop. There should have been foundations dug for four of the five buildings. I was pleased to see that they were actually beginning to dig out the fifth despite heavy rains last week.

  “Addison,” Billy said as he approached me, “you look wonderful.”

  “I look like I swallowed a beach ball.”

  “A basketball, maybe. It’ll be a month or two before you reach beach-ball proportions.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  He took my arm and guided me over the plywood. We stood at the edge of one of the foundations and I could see that prep work was already being done for the support structure and the plumbing that would have to be run.

  “We’re ahead of schedule.”

  “We are,” Billy agreed.

  “When will the plumbers be able to get in?”

  “Next week.”

  I nodded, pleased. It was good news.

  We had fifteen projects going on at the moment. Eight of them were behind schedule because of the rain. Five were right on schedule. And only two were ahead of schedule. The fact that this project was one of the two was huge for our bottom line.

  “Grant’ll be thrilled.”

  “Where is Grant?” Billy asked. “I thought he’d be making this tour with you.”

  “He was supposed to, but he was called into a series of meetings at the last minute.” I stretched a little, pressing my hands into my lower back. “We’re still working on upgrading the computer systems at the office, and he’s working with Taurus on getting that closer to finished.”

  “Must be nice for him, working with his former partners.”

  “He seems to be enjoying it.”

  “What about you? How have you been?”

  I ran my hand over my swollen belly. “Doctor says everything’s progressing normally.”

  “That’s good. But I really meant you, Addison. How are you?”

  Billy had this way of looking through me, like he could see something that I managed to hide from the rest of the world.

  “It’s a day-to-day thing. Some days, I’m okay. But some days are pretty hard.”

  He touched my arm, his eyes softening a little. “You’re doing a good job hiding it.”

  I kind of laughed. “Not according to Grant. I think he’s beginning to get tired of the tears over the littlest things. This morning, I had a nervous breakdown because I spilled the sugar on the kitchen counter.”

  “That’s just pregnancy,” Billy said with a chuckle.

  “Maybe. But I’ve never been the girl who cries over everything.”

  “I know. But once that baby comes…”

  “That’s what everyone says.”

  Billy took my hand and tucked it through his arm, much like Grant often does, and led the way back around to another of the foundations. We toured the entire site, talking about schedules and supplies and even a little about the men working here on the site. And then he walked me to my truck and helped me in.

  “Go put your feet up. And tell that husband of yours to show his ugly mug around here once in a w
hile.”

  “I will.”

  I kissed his cheek lightly, aware of him watching me until I maneuvered the truck out of the mud and back onto the pavement.

  It was a bit of a drive back to the office, long enough to think about things I didn’t really want to think about. The funeral. The house sitting neglected. The papers my father had been working so hard to organize that were now sitting in boxes, waiting for someone to pay attention to them. There was so much I should be doing, but when the end of the day came I was too exhausted to think of anything beyond a hot bath and a long night under our down comforter.

  Grant offered to take care of things for me. But I knew clearing out my dad’s house was something I should do personally. So it waited.

  I pulled into the parking garage beside our office building and mumbled under my breath a few choice words as I struggled to get my eighteen weeks of belly out of the truck. I ran my hand over my belly, wondering when it would be that I could distinguish the baby’s movement from gas bubbles. The doctor assured us it would be soon, but nothing had happened so far. It scared me a little that I hadn’t felt anything yet. What if there was nothing to feel? I wasn’t sure I could go through another loss right now.

  “Mr. Lewis called,” Angela said as I walked past her desk to go to my office. “And Burt said something about the new order being inaccurate?”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “And Grant asked that you come to his office when you have a chance.”

  “Yeah?” I glanced at her. “Do you know what it’s about?”

  “No.”

  I nodded as I settled in my office chair and tried to bend over to untie my boots. Angela didn’t even ask. She just came around and knelt, untying them and slipping them off for me.

  “I hate having you do that.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You’ll do it for me someday.”

  She wouldn’t look at me as she crossed back around. She and Kevin were on a break at the moment. Something about her refusal to move in with him. She wouldn’t talk about it, and I could hardly blame her. I wouldn’t want to talk about it, either. Grant thought it was a temporary setback and Kevin would come around. I hoped he was right. Angela and Kevin were good together.

  “Are you still coming over Friday night?”

  Angela looked up. “Are you sure you want people around? You’re always so tired.”

  “Hanging out with friends is relaxing. Besides, we haven’t had time to hang out together lately.”

  She smiled softly. “Sure. I’ll be there.”

  I watched her go, then sighed as I tackled the phone calls that couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Mr. Lewis wanted to be reassured that everything was progressing well. I was happy to be able to tell him we were ahead of schedule. And Burt’s issue was easy to settle once I assured him that we did, indeed, want fifty cabinets for one project. Apartments.

  And then there were the unending lists of e-mails that never seemed to go away. By the time I was done, the sun was going down in the floor-to-ceiling windows behind me and my eyes were dry and aching. I sat back and rubbed my eyes with the heel of my hand.

  “You were supposed to come find me when you had a minute.”

  “I haven’t had a minute all day,” I said, shifting to watch Grant come into the office. He was in a suit, as usual, but his tie was loosened and his hair looked as though he’d dragged his fingers through it a few too many times. “You look as tired as I feel.”

  “I’m probably close.”

  He came around and perched himself on the edge of my desk, holding both sides of a file folder between his hands.

  “Is this business? I was hoping you just wanted to see me.”

  “I always just want to see you,” he said, leaning down to kiss the tip of my nose. Then he reached down and rested his fingertips on my belly. “How are you doing?”

  “No crying jags out at the projects.”

  “That’s probably a relief for the foremen.”

  I smiled, imagining the big, tough foremen on our construction crews trying to deal with one of my crying jags. They all had children, so one would assume they’d gone through something similar with their wives. But it still brought to mind a tragic comedy.

  He lifted the file folder. “Just a little bit of business.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your six-month contract ended today.”

  “I’d totally forgotten about that.”

  “Yes, well, the lawyers didn’t. They sent over the paperwork to have your share of the purchase price released and placed in your personal account.”

  “I’d forgotten about that.”

  “And a new contract, if you want it.”

  “New contract?”

  “You can’t work here if you don’t have a contract.”

  “Hmmm, I’d forgotten that, too.”

  He handed me the folder, but I was so tired, I really didn’t want to deal with it. I took it, but instead of looking inside of it, I stared out the window, thought of my dad on the day this deal was first concluded. It was all a charade, for my sake, but he’d been so sincere. So ready for me to do what he knew I would.

  “He told me to grow up.”

  “What?” Grant asked.

  “My dad. When I told him that day you were back in town, he told me to grow up. To get over what you’d done and realize that it was probably for the best.”

  “Maybe he was afraid you would chase me away.”

  “Instead, I married you.”

  “I think that’s what he wanted all along. He was trying to right what he recognized was a mistake on his part.”

  I nodded, sighing as I focused on the file. I opened it and the financial paperwork was right on top. I glanced through it, wondering what I would do with that additional capital. I thought briefly that I should put it back into the company, but it wasn’t really necessary thanks to the trust my dad set up for the early retirement of over half our employees. With that taken care of and the new projects we were involved in, the company was making money hand over fist rather than losing it like before. The company didn’t need more money.

  “We should put it in the trust for the baby.”

  I’d taken a large amount of the insurance and other monies my dad left me and started a trust for the baby and any future children Grant and I might have. I thought it was something that would make my dad happy. This money felt more like his than mine, anyway. It belonged there.

  “Are you sure?” Grant asked.

  “Yeah. We should do that.”

  “Okay. I’ll have the lawyers work on that tomorrow.”

  He stole the papers from the file and left the contract that was sitting behind it. But it wasn’t an employment contract. It was a partnership contract.

  “Grant, Berryman Construction is yours now. You don’t have to do this.”

  “I want to do this. This is the way it was always meant to be.”

  “But my dad—”

  “It was his idea.”

  I set the file down and stood, moving into his arms. “The two of you sure made a lot of secret plans.”

  “Not a lot. He just wanted to make sure you were well cared for. He loved you.”

  I nodded, not bursting into tears as I might have done just a week ago at the mention of my dad. It was getting easier. We kissed, moving together like an old married couple seeking comfort from one another. But it quickly turned more into something like a couple of teens might do. It never got old, the feel of him.

  His hand moved over the back of my jeans, his fingers sneaking under the back of my T-shirt. I sighed as his hand exerted pressure on my lower back, as much from the passion of it as the pressure that relieved some of the ache that seemed to live there now. He stood and pushed me back, pressing me up against the windows at the same moment he lifted my T-shirt and began to work the clasp at the back of my bra.

  “Mr. McGraw,” I said softly against his lips, “should we really d
o this here?”

  “I don’t think I can wait till we go home,” he answered.

  He kissed me again, a long, hot kiss that turned into a slow trail down my throat, over my collarbone, until my overly sensitive nipple ended up in his mouth. I dug my fingers deep in his hair, pulling him closer to me. He hesitated slightly as his mouth touched my swollen baby. And then he made me laugh when he whispered against my navel, like it was some sort of microphone with a direct line to the baby, “Sorry, kid, but she’s still mine for the moment.”

  And then he was back, stealing my lips as his hand slid inside my maternity jeans, slipping easily down to find my swollen clit. I gasped as he touched it, his finger pressed against it with a pressure that made me wiggle my hips a little. But he didn’t stop there. His finger slid inside of me, doing things and touching things that made my head begin to spin.

  A moment later, he turned me and pressed me up against the glass of that floor-to-ceiling window, exposing me to the world ten floors down. Thank God for tinting. And then my clothes were sliding over my hips, down my thighs, and he was inside of me, thrusting with more reserve than he once might have shown. But it was just as good. Better, maybe. My body knew him, how to move into him, and how to make him touch all those places that could make me lose my mind. I closed my eyes and let myself go with the wave he set me upon, taking a ride that was neither too familiar nor too new.

  He nibbled at the back of my neck, his hot breath like a spring breeze on my neck. His hand slid around my belly, his fingers seeking my clit again. And when he touched it, I was lost. I cried out, aware that there were employees still wandering the halls outside my office, but not really caring. All I cared about was this man and what he could do to my body.

  He picked me up and carried me to the couch when my orgasm was done, making love to me slowly and with great patience, his body finding a way to conform to the changes in mine. It was beautiful. And when it was done, I didn’t want to let him go.

  We curled up together, his back against the back of the old couch that had been in this office since I could remember. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but it served a purpose. I briefly wondered how many lovers had consummated their love on this thing over the years. And then I shuddered because the guy who had this office before me was nearly seventy when he retired.