“I’ll stop tickling you as soon as you tell me about the dream. What was I doing?”
“I’m not telling.”
“Come on, Lydia. Don’t be shy. You can tell me.” He attacked her ribs, moving with her each time she tried to roll away. “I’m not stopping until you tell me.”
“Please!” She gasped, flopping like a fish on dry land. “I can’t tell you—it’s embarrassing!”
“No, I’ll tell you what’s going to be embarrassing is if you fall out of this bed. What will your friends think then?” He pounced on her, pinning her to the bed as he began attacking her sides with both hands. “You ain’t getting out of this one, sweetheart. Just tell me what you dreamed.”
“Okay—okay! I give! Stop.” She was breathless, wiggling beneath him with a smile the size of Texas on her lips, but she stilled almost instantly when she felt his hardness pressing against her stomach.
Watching her teeth nip at her bottom lip, his pulse accelerated.
Maybe tickling her hadn’t been the best idea.
“I really will tell you.” She promised, long lashes tickling at her cheeks as she blinked. “But I don’t want you to think I have a perverted mind or anything.”
“Perverted?” He rubbed her hip and rolled his eyes. “I would never think that of you, Lydia McIntosh. You’re a proper lady.”
“I wouldn’t take it that far.”
“Well, I think you are. Can I tell you a secret?”
“Yes.”
Pressing his palms against the pillow on either side of her head, he leaned in and lightly touched his lips to her ear, making sure his hot breath teased her skin as he spoke.
“Everybody’s perverted, baby.” His southern drawl grew thicker than normal. “You just have to find the person you’re comfortable being dirty with.”
He felt her shiver and smirked to himself. God, he was being awful—so awful, yet he couldn’t help it when he was around her. The thought of teaching her things no one else had thrilled him beyond belief. A part of him liked ruffling those pure feathers of hers.
Kissing the side of her neck, he heard her sigh and decided their current position didn’t need to be abandoned any time soon. Moments of bravery were few and far between for both of them.
“Did I do anything in this dream of yours?” He asked huskily, sucking her earlobe between his teeth.
“Uh huh.” She groaned, letting her head loll to the side.
“What did I do?” His lips inched over her jaw and came to rest against her pulse point.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Yes, you can. You can tell me anything. Don’t be afraid of what you feel.”
“I’m not afraid of what I feel. Not really.”
“Then what are you afraid of?” He pulled back to meet her gaze.
“I’m afraid that...”—she swallowed hard and licked her lips, frowning—“that maybe you’ll be disappointed eventually.”
“That’s not true.” His eyebrows pinched together. “Why would you ever think that? Nothing about you could possibly disappoint me, Lydia. You are perfect in my eyes.”
“I know that, and that’s what makes it so stupid.” Her bottom lip quivered and he immediately dove in to kiss it.
“Don’t cry.” He begged gently. “Please, baby. Don’t cry. You’re wonderful. You’re beautiful. I’m crazy about you.”
“I know that, too.” Her hands rested against his forearms as she peered up at him. “I just...I want all of these things with you. The dream I had...I want that, too. So badly.”
“And I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you everything, Lydia. Just name it.”
“I can’t.” She sucked in a shuddering breath and turned her head away from him. “Sometimes...sometimes I wonder what I was thinking to think I could pull this off.”
“What?” He was taken aback by her words and any and all thoughts of seducing her dissipated. In fact, his stomach felt a little sick when he realized what she was trying to say.
“All my life I have believed that I’m this person...this beautiful person and all I ever wanted was to look physically as I feel emotionally and mentally. I just wanted my inside and outside to match, but...”
“But what?” Easing onto the mattress, he stared at her in confusion. “Talk to me, baby. What’s wrong?”
Lydia slowly sat up and ran her fingers through her hair. She seemed irritated and a little lost as she hugged her knees to her chest and sniffled.
“It’s just so stupid. I always hoped I could fall in love and be happy with someone, but I guess I never really anticipated everything that came with being in love.”
She’s in love with me? Scratching at the scruff on his jaw, Callum chose his next words as carefully as possible.
“You know, Lydia—being in love with someone ultimately depends on trust, patience, and loyalty. “ He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I need you to trust that I am patient and I won’t stray from you, no matter what’s going through that pretty head of yours. Yeah, I may tease you sometimes and joke around about things leading to something more, but I’d never try to make you do anything you don’t want to or aren’t ready for. I’m sorry if I fucked that up again, just now.”
“You didn’t.” She squeezed his hand and scooted closer, reaching up to touch the side of his face. “God, no. You really didn’t, Callum. This is all me. It’s my own stupid brain being...well, stupid.”
“I don’t think your brain is stupid.”
“No, but I do. And it is. Try as I might, I can’t move past this wall of self-doubt when it comes to you. I want to—so very badly, you just don’t even know, but...I’m terrified. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“What did I just say?” He lifted an eyebrow. “You can’t dis—”
“Yes, you say that now, but it will be different if...when we decide to take the next step.”
Damn his blood for rushing south at the thought.
“You do crazy things to my body on a daily basis, Callum. I’m not making you wait on purpose. I want to be with you—to do the things that happened in my dream, I just...” She huffed in frustration and pulled away from him. “Fuck it.”
“What...hey, what are you doing?” He asked, watching her tug her shirt over her head. His mouth fell open when she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, letting the material fall away from her breasts.
His eyes fell to them then and didn’t dare look away.
He couldn’t have looked away even if someone forced his head the other way.
They were beautiful.
“See?” She asked after a few seconds of silence, her voice shrill with urgency. “They’re not what they should be.”
His eyes finally snapped back up to meet hers and he swallowed hard, trying desperately to form words as his cock strained against his jeans once more. “Not what they should be?” He echoed, wondering what the hell was wrong with them.
They weren’t the smallest he’d ever seen, and they were far from terrible-looking. He honestly didn’t understand what she hated about them so much, or what she was afraid of him seeing.
“My nipples. They’re not pink.”
He blinked.
That was seriously what bothered her so much? Her nipples weren’t pink?
God help him, he began to laugh. He didn’t mean to, but the laughter bubbled right out of him, earning a glare of disbelief from Lydia as she wrapped her arms around herself.
“It’s not funny.” She sobbed. “You’re being mean.”
“No. Please...” He clamped a hand over his mouth and shook his head. “I’m not laughing at you, baby—I swear.”
“Yes, you are!” She squeezed her arm around herself so tightly that her breasts threatened to spill over it.
That wasn’t helping the situation in his pants either.
“Oh, God.” She cried, nearly falling off the bed as she stood. “This was so stupid. What was I thinking? You said you would never
do this!”
“And I’m not.” He forced himself off the bed and stumbled after her, reaching for her arm as another laugh escaped. “Wait. Lydia, baby, I can explain. I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to explain. I can’t believe I showed you...I trusted you...Ugh!”
“And you should trust me.” He grabbed her hips and pulled her against himself, her back pressing against his chest as she glared at him through the mirror. If looks could kill, he’d be a dead man. “I’m sorry for laughing. Honest.”
“You suck.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she struggled against him, her soft curves doing deliciously wicked things to him. “You laughed at my breasts. I know they’re ugly, but—”
“Stop.” He said, all signs of laughter gone from his voice.
She did.
Very slowly, he lifted his hands and gripped her wrists, prying them away from her chest. Her lovely breasts fell prey to his hungry gaze and her nipples hardened in response as he pushed her hands to her sides.
“Don’t cover yourself up.” He said, holding her gaze through the mirror. “You are beautiful.”
“But—”
“No buts, Lydia. I mean it. You’re gorgeous.”
Listening to her rapid breathing and allowing his gaze to penetrate her very soul, Callum slid his hands up her stomach and cupped her breasts, squeezing and caressing, exploring.
Her eyes closed and she bit her lip, releasing a quiet whimper.
His thumbs slowly stroked her nipples and she arched against him.
“I’m going to let you in on another secret, sweetheart.” He stated lowly, kissing her neck.
She nodded in understanding, her eyes remaining closed.
“Not all women have pink nipples.”
Her eyes snapped open. “They don’t?”
“No. Nipples come in all shapes and sizes and colors. Surely your doctor told you that?” He pinched her nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, earning a squeak of pleasure from her.
“M-maybe he mentioned it.” She confessed in a breathy moan. Her head fell back against his shoulder. “I just know what the girls look like in the magazines.”
“That’s your first mistake.” He teased his teeth against her shoulder, pinching her nipples harder. “Men don’t want what you see in the magazines, Lydia. We want the real thing.”
He turned her around to face him and hooked a finger beneath her chin, smiling devilishly sweet. But he also knew it was a smile that promised her he was no angel.
“You think I’m the real thing?”
“Baby, you are the real thing in my eyes.” His eyes flicked to her lips and darkened. “I want you.”
“Oh, Callum. I want you, too.” She whispered, tiptoeing to kiss him hungrily. Fisting his shirt in her hands, her tongue slid into his mouth and he met it halfway.
“I want you more.” He growled, lifting her up from the floor and wrapping her legs around his waist. “Never doubt that, huh?”
“Never.” She promised.
Carrying her to the bed, he tossed her up on it and wasted no time in claiming her breasts with his mouth and tongue. Gone were the necessary moments of hesitance and caution. Beneath him was an eager and willing woman, and all he wanted to do was show her how happy he could truly make her.
His mouth practically watered for her as he slipped a hand between her legs, stroking her over the damp material of her night shorts.
Lydia moaned and bucked her hips in response, encouraging him to continue as he sucked and licked at her nipples as if they were a rare delicacy.
In all honesty, they were.
“I want to taste you.” He groaned, sliding his fingers into her shorts. The heat of her flesh tempted him, called out to him, pleaded with him to discover what was hidden beneath her clothes. “Please let me taste you.”
“Yes,” she nodded quickly. “Please, Callum. I want you to taste me.”
Making record time with removing her clothes, he only paused long enough to gaze at her naked body appreciatively. Her curves were perfect. Had he not known beforehand that she hadn’t been born a woman, he honestly never would have known.
His Lydia was the epitome of perfection.
“Spread your legs.” He whispered, kneeling on the mattress. Kissing at her knee, he gazed at her.
She did as he asked, opening herself to him. It was an offering he was grateful for. His eyes feasted upon her soft skin and the small patch of curls resting just above her clit.
He couldn’t help but to wonder how sensitive she was.
“Just let me know if anything makes you uncomfortable.” He said before diving in.
As his tongue made contact with the little bead hidden between her legs, Lydia stifled a loud moan with her hand. Her entire body seemed to convulse as he licked her slowly and with fierce precision.
“Oh my god. Oh my god.” She panted, lifting her head to watch him. “Oh, my god. That feels...oh...”
Keeping her thighs parted, he lapped at her like there was no tomorrow, but God, he hoped there would be. He wanted to do this for her again and again.
Lydia rocked her hips against his mouth, gasping and moaning as her body trembled. She was close—at least he thought she was, and it only encouraged him to give her more.
Her fingers fisted in his hair only moments later and she tensed up, freezing mid-thrust as her orgasm approached.
He would never, ever forget the noises she made, because of him, because of his tongue, as she rode out her orgasm against his mouth.
Tracing his tongue over her lips, he briefly noted the difference between the flesh on her thighs and the flesh of her labia—but it didn’t matter. She was his. She was perfect.
He loved her.
“That was...wow.” Lydia panted, trying to catch her breath as he crawled up to lay beside her. “Did that really just happen?”
“Yeah,” he kissed her shoulder and grinned. “And it can happen as many times as you want.”
“Really?”
“Definitely.”
“Good. Because that’s exactly what I dreamed about.”
“Oh, yeah?” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her naked waist. “Well, I guess that’s just proof that dreams do come true.”
Chapter Thirteen
Lydia
Another month had flown by before she knew it.
Prairie Town was being too good to her and that rational part of her brain repeatedly told her something had to give. There was a catch. The happiness she felt couldn’t last and something would happen to toss a wrench in everything.
She was really starting to hate her brain.
Benji and Agatha had returned home after nearly a week and a half of laughter, junk food, good music, and lots of trips to the bar. They’d given their stamp of approval for Callum and that made Lydia even more suspicious of her new life.
It was simply too good to be true.
“Something’s up with it.” She said, drying off another plate and placing it in the cabinet. “I just know it.”
“Has anyone ever told you overthink things?” Tula asked curiously, leaning against the counter with an apple in tow. “Because you do, sweetie. I’m surprised your brain hasn’t exploded from the amount of overthinking you do.”
Heaving a heavy sigh, she turned her head to gaze at the woman and frowned.
Things were somewhat back to normal for Tula. She seemed to be feeling better and the breakdown she’d had a few weeks back was only a distant memory.
Somewhat.
Paul has asked her to keep an extra close eye on Tula in case something happened, but he never specified what could happen, and that part had Lydia very nervous and paranoid.
Tula had never given her the impression she was suicidal or the type of person to harm herself, but that sure seemed to be what Paul was insinuating.
It wasn’t an author thing.
It was a human thing. Lydia knew that all too well. There had been many instances in the pa
st when she wanted to end it all. It seemed so easy to do...
“You caught me.” Lydia replied, reaching for another plate. “I do overthink everything. It’s miserable.”
“Honey, you can’t do that.” Tula hopped up onto the counter like a teenager, swinging her legs back and forth. “You were overthinking things with Callum, remember? That turned out pretty well, didn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Lydia’s face was on fire at the thought of Callum. Her heart began to pound so hard as his face flashed into her mind.
Sweet, beautiful, sexy Callum.
Things between them were nothing short of magical. They saw each other as often as possible, and each passing night proved to be harder and harder to say goodbye. The passion was intense, yet they hadn’t done the official deed.
Not yet.
They had done a lot of stuff to each other, for each other—and glory to God, it was beautiful—but sex hadn’t happened.
What were they waiting for?
“You’re so cute when you get all hearty-eyes about him.” Tula pinched her cheek playfully. “I remember what it was like to be young and in love.” She gazed off into the distance, smiling sadly. “There’s truly nothing like it. You never forget your first love.”
“What was his name?”
“Her name was Cassandra.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize...”—her face was turning red—“I just...you’re with Paul so I assumed...”
“If I ever offer you a piece of advice to take to heart, baby, it’s this,” Tula smiled. “Never assume anything about anyone.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.”
“And stop calling me that. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It was a simple mistake.” Hopping off the counter, she tossed her untouched apple back into the bowl and twirled about. She did seem much happier today, thank God.
“So this Cassandra...she must have been something special, huh?”
“She was.” Tula agreed. “We grew up together—sandbox friends.” Tracing her fingers over the edge of the table, she slowly turned to peer at her with sparkling eyes. “I’ll never forget the way she looked in that bathing suit during the summer before ninth grade began. She was so beautiful—like a mermaid, like Ariel, you know?”
180 Days Page 11