by I. T. Lucas
“He is a good man.”
A crease in her forehead warned him that another question was coming. “I thought you never let anyone close enough to touch you. That’s why you always fight with weapons. Is it different with your brother? Is it okay for him to touch you?”
“No. That’s why we never sparred like that before. I thought I wouldn’t be able to tolerate it, but I did. We even embraced when he helped me up, and it was tolerable. I guess enough time has passed.”
“Enough time from what?”
Damnation. Brundar pinched his forehead between his thumb and forefinger. He hadn’t told anyone about what had happened all those years ago. He’d never even talked about it with Anandur, who was the only one who knew.
The last thing he wanted was to reopen those old wounds and let anyone in on the humiliation and guilt that had been eating at him for years. But for some reason, he felt compelled to tell Calypso. Not the entire story, he could never do that, but maybe a highly modified and censored version.
She was the first person he’d let get close to him since the event that had changed him irrevocably.
“Something bad happened to me when I was twelve. Someone who I thought of as a friend, whom I loved as a brother, betrayed me in the worst possible way. I got hurt, but I wasn’t the only one. My entire family suffered as a result. That’s all I can tell you. Please don’t ask for more. Not now, and not ever.”
CHAPTER 50: CALLIE
Callie’s heart broke for Brundar, and that was without knowing what exactly had happened to him.
Her best guess was that he’d gotten beaten up severely.
That explained why he’d become such an incredible fighter, but it didn’t explain his aversion to being touched. Had it been a sexual assault? Had his so-called friend been a much older boy?
It was hard to imagine a twelve-year-old committing such an atrocity.
But then some people were just born evil.
Callie would’ve liked to believe differently. It was much more palatable to theorize that all babies were born pure and good and that the only reason some of them became monsters was because of external factors like neglect and abuse. But it wasn’t true. Genetics played a much larger role in a person’s makeup than previously believed. In recent years, the old nature versus nurture argument was leaning more and more in favor of nature.
Besides, any mother could tell that each of her children was born different. Starting from day one, kids’ unique personalities were quite obvious.
Callie wasn’t sure she believed in souls, leaning more toward the scientific explanation that consciousness and sense of self emerged from biological functions and not some mystical reservoir of souls. It left genetics to account for the marked differences between one child and the next.
“I won’t ask, I promise. But you need to talk to someone about it. It’s not healthy to carry it all bottled up inside.”
Brundar shook his head. “You can’t help yourself, can you? You always have to push. Let me rephrase. I don’t want to talk about it, period. Understood?”
Crap. He’d opened up to her and she repaid him by offering unsolicited advice. When was she going to learn to shut up and just listen?
Was he ever going to tell her anything after that?
“I’m sorry. It will not happen again. Scouts honor.”
He lifted a brow.
“I swear. Do you want me to write it a hundred times? I will. I will write a hundred times; Callie will mind her own business and not stick her nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Brundar chuckled. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Mission accomplished. He looked amused, which meant he wasn’t angry anymore.
“Let’s eat this amazing dinner before it gets cold.”
When they finished the appetizer, Brundar refused to let her help serve the next dish. “It’s my treat today, from beginning to end.”
She leaned back in her chair. “I can get used to that.”
He kissed her forehead as he put the main course in front of her. “Then do. Because I plan on pampering you as much as I can.”
The change in Brundar was so drastic that Callie was almost glad about their spat. He was even talking about a future. She’d learned her lesson, though, and kept her mouth closed, not daring to make a comment that would start a new argument.
After the main course, Brundar made coffee and served it with the dessert.
Cup in hand, he leaned back in his chair. “What have you been doing this morning that has kept you so busy?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she was entitled to her secrets the same way he was, but that would have been petty. Besides, it wasn’t like she could hide it for long.
“I went apartment hunting.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to keep living off charity. I want to stand on my own two feet. You helped me a lot, but I’m ready to take my life into my own hands.”
“Did you find anything you liked?”
“I did. It’s a studio apartment, not nearly as nice as this one, but I can afford it on my salary which is my main objective.”
“I don’t want you living somewhere unsafe. And how are you going to get to work? Is it nearby?”
She was about to ruin the newfound peace, but there was no way around it. Better to yank the Band-Aid in one go.
“I also bought a car and found a new job.”
“You were really busy.”
Brundar didn’t seem angry, but he didn’t look happy either. Maybe the next item would make him happier.
“I also went to the doctor and got birth control. I’m on the pill, which means we can say goodbye to condoms in about a week. I also got tested for sexually transmitted diseases. Some of the results were immediate, all clear, but some will take up to two weeks. So I guess we will have to wait until everything is in. Did you get yours?”
“Not yet. But I will.”
The frown remained.
“What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy about finally doing away with condoms?”
“I am. But I’m not happy about you moving out of here or working somewhere else. I want you safe, and I want to keep an eye on you.”
That was rich. As if he’d been doing such a great job of it for the last couple of days.
Take a deep breath, Callie, and keep your cool. He is reacting better than expected to the news.
“I went looking for a new job because of safety concerns, not because I didn’t like working in the club or bumping into you on occasion. Everyone there knows me by my real name, and that’s not safe. I used the fake name to apply for the new job—a steakhouse, like Aussie. I should be earning about the same as I did there. I also bought the car under the fake name, and I made the doctor’s appointment as Heather, not Callie or Calypso. The fewer people who know me by my real name, the better.”
“I agree.”
“So you’re not mad?”
“Mad? No. Why would I be mad? You did the right thing. Except for the apartment. It’s rented under my name. There is no reason for you to leave.”
“I can’t afford the rent, Brundar. I checked. It’s twice as much as what I’ll be paying for the studio.”
“I’ll share the rent with you.”
“You already have an apartment you’re paying for.”
“With my brother, and it’s paid for by our boss. If I’m going to be spending a lot of time with you, it’s only fair that I share in the expenses. And that goes for groceries and everything else as well.”
He was making a convincing argument. But what would happen the next time they fought? Would she get stuck with an apartment she couldn’t afford?
On the other hand, life didn't come with guarantees. Shit would no doubt happen, and she would have to deal with it. Besides, she hadn’t heard back from the leasing agent yet. Without references, she might have not gotten it.
“I’ll agree to stay here on the con
dition that you’ll really let me pay half of the rent.”
“Starting next month.”
“Fine.” There was no point in sweating the details. Especially since pushing Brundar beyond what he considered as reasonable seemed to always backfire.
As it was, he’d been much more accommodating than she’d expected.
Heck, he’d implied that he intended spending more time with her, had made arrangements for sharing rent and grocery bills with her. This wasn’t how a guy who planned to bail talked.
It was too good to be true.
What happened to the prohibition on relationships?
Had he gotten approval from his boss?
Or was he rebelling?
Callie burned with the need to ask these question but knew better than to succumb to it. Too much had been achieved today to jeopardize because of impatience. Eventually, she would have the answers, but not today.
CHAPTER 51: BRUNDAR
Brundar felt as if he was digging a hole for himself he would never be able to climb out of. What had possessed him to make all those promises to Calypso?
He’d made it sound as if he was staying.
The thing was, he wanted to, and for once in his life, he was going to do the unthinkable.
Fuck the rules.
Calypso was everything that was good. Hell, she was the only good thing that had happened to him throughout his adult life.
She made him feel.
He wasn’t going to give her up for anything. Fuck the rules, and fuck his goddamned honor. None of it mattered to him anymore. He was going to keep her and fight to the death anyone who would threaten to take her away.
She was his, as he was hers.
What were they going to do to him? Fire him from his Guardian job? Sentence him to entombment?
He snorted. Who and what army was going to accomplish that?
If need be, he would grab Calypso and run. It would be hard to part with Anandur, but there was a time in a man’s life where he needed to make a choice between his past and his future.
Calypso was his future.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” she asked. “You’re frowning as if you’re trying to solve an unsolvable problem.”
Very perceptive of her.
But as far as Brundar was concerned, he no longer had a problem. He’d made up his mind. Others might disagree, but then it was their problem, not his.
“I’m thinking of the best and quickest way to get you naked and under me. I wonder if this table is sturdy enough.”
“You should have said so.” Calypso pushed to her feet, gripped the bottom of her T-shirt, and pulled it over her head. “I would have offered solutions.” She hooked her thumbs in the elastic of her pajama pants and pushed them down. “Race you to bed.” She stepped out of the loose pants, which had pooled at her feet, and sprinted for the bedroom.
Didn’t she know not to run from a predator?
In a split second, Brundar was out of his chair and leaping after her. Calypso managed two steps away from the dining table when he grabbed her by her waist, twisted her around, and draped her over his shoulder—fireman style.
Or was it caveman style?
Calypso laughed and pushed back.
He smacked her upturned behind. “Stay. Don’t wiggle.”
The more she struggled, the more turned on he became. Brundar’s imagination produced images of the kinds of games they could play if she were an immortal. He would take her somewhere wild and give her a head start, then hunt her for hours as she hid and tried to evade him.
The things he would do to her once he caught her…
Yeah, if Calypso were an immortal, a lot of things would have been different.
But she wasn’t.
She was perfect the way she was. Human, fragile, beautiful, feisty, independent, assertive, yet willing to yield to him and offer her complete surrender.
On top of all that, to wish she was also an immortal was greedy and ungrateful. It was good Brundar didn’t believe in the Fates. Otherwise, he would have feared their retribution for regarding their gifts with such ungratefulness.
Laying Calypso gently on the bed, he quickly divested her of the last two scraps of fabric still covering her body.
With a smile, she stretched her arms over her head, arching her back and pushing her perfect breasts up. “Are you going to tie me up?”
He shook his head. “Just grab onto the headboard and don’t let go.”
Unfortunately, he could not forgo the blindfold. Already, his fangs were making his speech slur, and the only reason Calypso didn’t notice the glow coming from his eyes was that it was still daytime and her bedroom was drenched in sunlight.
He pulled out one of the five silk scarves she kept in her drawer next to the stash of condoms. The nylon stockings he’d used the first time were there as well. He loved it that she was prepared for him, that she not only accommodated his quirks but planned for them by keeping the things he needed close by.
Scarf pulled between his hands, Brundar sat on the bed next to Calypso. “Lift your head, sweetling.”
She obeyed, the smile never leaving her lush lips. Did she love the game as much as he did?
“Do you like it when I blindfold you?” he asked as he tied the ends behind her head, careful not to snag any of her beautiful hair in the knot.
“I love all the games we play, and I’m looking forward to learning more.”
Gutsy girl.
“Should I buy you your own personal flogger?”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth and nodded.
“The same kind I used on you in the club?”
“Yes,” she said on a moan, the scent of her arousal permitting the air and turning his erection into a steel rod.
“Soft suede?”
She nodded.
Damnation. What a shame he didn’t have one with him. It seemed Calypso was craving it. Or maybe she just enjoyed talking about it?
He caressed her side, lightly brushing his knuckles against her left breast. “Perhaps I should buy a lot of different toys and bring them here for you to experiment with?” He put his hand on her stomach, feeling the small tremors his version of dirty talk was sending through her body.
“Yes. I want to have my own, brand new toys to play with.”
Brundar stifled a chuckle. His girl was rushing forward faster than he’d ever imagined she could or would want to.
Feisty, brave, adventurous.
“There are online catalogs.” He cupped her hot center, then leaned to nibble on her ear. “Imagine how wet you’ll get just from browsing and imagining what I could do to you with each toy.”
“Oh, God.” She arched her back. “Keep talking like that, and I’m going to come all over your hand.”
This time he couldn’t suppress the chuckle. “That would be a first for me. I’ve never had a woman climax just from the sound of my voice.”
A sly smirk twisting her plump lips, as she rubbed her center on his palm. “No wonder. It would’ve required you to actually talk.”
CHAPTER 52: CALLIE
Callie waited for a comeback that never came. Instead, Brundar leaned forward and clamped his hand on the back of her head, lifting it and crushing his lips over hers.
As his tongue pushed in, she parted for him, moaning into his mouth, desperate to lift her arms and hold him close to her.
What would he do? Tell her to put her hands back up? It wasn’t enough of a deterrent. She could steal a moment, pretending she’d acted on instinct.
Her fingers were in the process of loosening their grip on the metal scrollwork when Brundar reminded her of the rules of the game. Still kissing her like he was drowning in her, he brought his other hand to her throat, caging it, two fingers pressed against her pulse points as if he wanted to feel the effect his kiss and possessive grip had on her heartbeat.
It sped up, not in fear, but out of pure lust. Everything felt too tight; her jaw, her nipple
s, her stomach muscles, her quivering sheath.
Brundar’s kiss was telling her all the things he wouldn’t or couldn't say. By hungrily sucking on her tongue, he was telling her that he could never get enough of her, and by gently caging her neck with his fingers, he was telling her that she was his, and he would always keep her safe, even from his own darkness.
“Brundar,” she whispered as he let go of her mouth to let her suck in a breath. “Make love to me.”
Callie was all in for Brundar’s rough and wild eroticism, but today she craved his tender loving touch. Today she needed reassurances. Today she wanted him to show her with his body what he couldn’t say with words.
CHAPTER 53: SHAWN
“Motherfucker!” Shawn woke up, a string of vile curses spilling out of his mouth.
The divorce papers lay scattered on the floor next to the couch where they had slipped from his hands when he’d fallen into a booze-induced stupor. He’d been watching The Lord of the Rings on Netflix, dozing on and off and sipping out of a bottle of vodka, until his eyes had closed, opening with a start when he’d woken up from a very vivid dream.
It was him—the elf lookalike fucker.
The guy who’d over a year ago had thrown Callie and Shawn out of the kink club. The same one who’d delivered the divorce papers, and the same one who had roughed Shawn up.
The weirdo with the long blond hair must’ve been some sort of a hypnotist. He must’ve fucked with Shawn’s head. That was the only explanation for why he hadn’t remembered him. Not the first time, or the second, or the third.
Shawn had collided with the motherfucker three times, and he hadn’t remembered any of them until everything came back to him in the dream.
Not old enough, Shawn seethed.
The fucker had thrown them out of the club with the excuse that Callie had been too young. But apparently, she was old enough for the guy to slip her his phone number and pork her behind her husband’s back.
The cunt must’ve been fucking the asswipe for over a year, and then he’d convinced her to leave Shawn and run away with him.