by Maya Banks
“Callie, come sit down,” Adam said in a low voice.
She winced. It was that tone that brooked no arguments. Even at twenty-three years old she wasn’t too old to heed her dad’s order. He didn’t give them very often, but when he did, he meant business.
With a sigh, she flopped onto the couch next to Seth. Seth was her ally. Always had been. Only now he didn’t look like much of an ally. He looked as determined as her other family members to make her talk.
Ryan leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs. He stared at her with those blue eyes so like her own. “What’s going on, baby girl? Don’t you think it’s time you told us what’s wrong?”
“You’ve been moping around here for months now,” Ethan cut in. “You came home like a wounded animal and I don’t see that it’s gotten any better.”
Tears pricked her eyelids, and the people she loved so dearly went bleary in front of her. Lily came to stand beside her and put a soft hand on her shoulder in support.
“Callie, we’re worried,” her mom said. “You just aren’t yourself.”
She scrubbed a hand over her face and heaved another sigh of resignation. “I met someone while I was in Europe.”
Adam got this pinched look on his face like he did when he wanted to kick someone’s ass. Lord but this wasn’t the way she wanted to introduce Max to her family.
“His name is Max. We had a…misunderstanding.”
Seth snorted beside her. “What kind of misunderstanding? Is it the type of misunderstanding that I need to track the son of a bitch down and kill him?”
She twisted her hands nervously in her lap and peeked back up at her fathers. “He’s here. In Clyde, I mean.”
You could have broken a brick on their faces. Ethan’s eyes narrowed and Ryan scowled.
She held up a hand. “I want you to meet him.”
“Maybe you need to explain this misunderstanding first,” Adam said.
Holly got up from her position between Ryan and Ethan and moved over to where Callie sat. With a flick of her hand, she motioned Seth from his seat and then settled next to her daughter.
“What happened, baby?”
Oh Lord but she wished her mother had stayed across the room. Callie’s lips trembled and her nose drew up and stung as tears burned her eyes.
It was all over with the moment her mom pulled her into her arms. She buried her head against her mother’s chest and allowed some of her misery to pour out.
Holly rocked her back and forth and stroked a hand through Callie’s hair. Several long moments later, Callie gained control of herself and immediately felt like an idiot.
“God,” she groaned against her mom. “Make them go away, Mom. This is humiliating.”
Holly chuckled. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with them.”
“Lily can stay,” Callie said mournfully.
“Callie.”
Ryan’s voice reached her ears. It was a soft command. Full of love. She looked up, unable to deny her father.
“If you really want us to go, we will. We love you. It’s been hard watching you hurt and not being able to do a damn thing about it. We only want to help.”
Callie smiled and wiped at the damp trails on her cheeks. “I don’t want you to hate him.”
“I can’t promise to like him if he hurt my baby,” Ryan said evenly.
“He wants us to be together,” she said.
“And what do you want?” Adam asked.
She drew in a deep breath. “I want us to be together too. If I can forgive him, I want you to be able to forgive him too.”
Holly squeezed Callie’s hand. “I’m sure we’ll love him.” She shot a challenging look in her husbands’ direction. “We have to meet him first, of course. And I have to be sure he’s someone I can trust my daughter with.”
The sharpness in Holly’s tone made her sons snicker. She silenced them with a look.
“Did Max have anything to do with what happened the other night at the bar?” Dillon asked.
Callie shot him a glare. “Who told you?”
Dillon stared balefully at her. “It’s my bar, Callie. Did you think no one would say anything?”
She scowled and pressed her lips together.
Her fathers’ collective sigh echoed in the room.
“It was nothing,” she said defensively. “I might have hit Max when he showed up at the bar. I wasn’t expecting him. I was pissed.”
“How do you maybe hit someone?” Michael drawled.
“Okay, so I decked him. At the time he deserved it.”
“And yet you’re ready to be with this guy again,” Adam said with a scowl.
“Look Dad, it’s complicated. He had to leave Europe because his mom was dying. I thought he dumped me.” She left out the part where he’d done just that for all practical purposes. It wouldn’t put him in a very good light with her already skeptical parents. “He found me here. He apologized.” Or as much as Max was capable of apology. More like he demanded she forgive him. Which wasn’t the same thing at all. “He wants…me.”
Ethan sighed. “We’ll give him a chance, Callie. What do you know about this guy, anyway? What does he do? He’s not planning to take you away from here, is he?”
At that statement, she got scowls from her dads and her brothers. Even Holly frowned and looked at Callie in question.
“I…” Hell. It made her sound ridiculously stupid, but the truth was, she didn’t know a whole lot about what Max did. She knew he was wealthy. She knew he had a job. Or maybe it was that he owned his own business. Finance? Truth be told, she hadn’t cared whether he had money. She hadn’t cared what his job title was.
“Callie?” Adam prompted.
“He’s in finance,” she mumbled.
“I think we should meet him before we make judgment,” Lily said in her sweet, soft voice. “We shouldn’t make Callie feel worse than she already does. She’s been through a lot. Our support means a lot to her.”
Oh damn. Callie was going to cry again. She looked up and smiled gratefully at Lily who still stood beside the couch where Callie sat.
Ryan cleared his throat. “Invite him to dinner. The sooner the better.”
“Just don’t make it the Spanish Inquisition,” Callie muttered. “It’s bad enough there are so many damn males in this family. Dial down the testosterone for the evening if you don’t mind.”
Dillon snickered and she glowered at him.
“I’ll have your fathers make something special,” Holly said serenely. “If it turns out we don’t like him, I’ll cook the next meal for him.”
The entire room erupted in laughter.
Some of the tension in Callie’s chest loosened, and she grinned at the mischievous glint in her mom’s eyes. Holly patted Callie on the leg.
“It’s going to be fine,” she whispered. “You’ll see. Your fathers are growly, but you’re their baby. You have to remember that.”
“Yeah, I know,” Callie returned. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
Holly enfolded her into another hug and when she released her, Adam rose from the couch. “Now that we have that out of the way, are you all ready to eat?”
And then Callie was surrounded by her fathers, all hugging her and being gruff, and for the first time since she’d returned home months before, she felt a lightness slide through her soul that told her everything just might be all right.
Chapter Nine
Callie parked in front of Max’s hotel and sat there for a long moment staring out her windshield. She was exhausted from the afternoon at her parents’ but her senses were alive at the thought of seeing Max again. This time without the hurt and misunderstanding of the past between them.
Could they really start over so easily? Could she?
She opened her car door and stepped out, wiping her hands nervously down her jeans. Her stomach fluttered and her chest tightened with each step she took toward the door to Max’s room.
<
br /> She raised her hand to knock and froze before quietly resting her hand against the aged wood. She was considering backing away when the door suddenly opened, and her hand fell.
“Callie.”
She took a step back and knotted her fingers together in front of her. “Max.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Were you going to knock or were you going to stand there all evening?”
“How did you…”
“I saw you pull up. I’ve been waiting for you.”
When she didn’t immediately make a move, he stood back and opened the door wider. “Come in.”
She took a deep breath and stepped into the lion’s den. Or at least it felt like it. The door closed behind her and she stopped in the middle of the hotel room.
Firm hands slid up her arms to grasp her shoulders and then warm, sensual lips pressed to the curve of her neck. She shivered and closed her eyes as sweet pleasure hummed through her veins. A welcome song.
“You smell just as I remember,” he murmured. “Sweet and a little exotic. Like wild honeysuckle in bloom.” He swept his tongue up to the hollow behind her ear. “And you taste every bit as sweet as you smell.”
“Max,” she whispered.
Slowly he turned her, his hands never leaving her arms. He stepped in closer until she was pressed to his chest. Then he moved his hands up to cup her face and he lowered his head to kiss her.
A moan gathered low in her throat, swelled and then slipped past her lips into his mouth. He ate delicately at her lips, nipping then sucking, and then he traced a line with his tongue before plunging deep.
There was nothing tentative or seeking about his kiss. He exerted the same mastery that had attracted her to him in the first place. Strong. Determined. And possessive. So very possessive.
He kissed her mouth and then pressed a tender line down one side of her jaw then up to her temple before skipping over to the other side to repeat all over again. He kissed her forehead and then pressed his mouth to her hairline and let it linger.
Tension coiled tight in his muscles. Whispered through his body and into hers until they were two wound springs.
When he finally pulled away, his fingers threaded through her hair, stroking absently as though he couldn’t keep from touching her.
“I’m going to make love to you, Callie. I can hardly think straight for wanting you. And God, I don’t think I can be easy. You deserve easy. Gentle and loving. You deserve for me to handle you like a piece of delicate glass. I don’t think I can.”
His words, so hoarse, his need so prevalent was like warm sunlight after a long winter. She stared up at him then touched his face with trembling fingers. “Then don’t be,” she whispered. “Just love me.”
With a harsh groan he yanked her into his arms. She hit his chest with enough force to knock the breath from her, and his mouth devoured her all over again.
He walked her backwards even as he yanked at her shirt, pulling it from her jeans. He shoved impatiently, freeing her from the shirt, and he wasted no time going for her pants. With one hand, he fumbled with her snap while with the other he unclasped her bra.
With her jeans still snagged at her knees, he tumbled her onto the bed. He tugged at her jeans until they came away, and the denim went sailing across the room to hit the door with a thud.
Then he set to work on his own clothing and she lay there, staring through half-lidded eyes as he revealed his muscular, tanned body.
He was leaner. A little thinner than he’d been before. The whorl of dark hair at the hollow of his chest tapered to a dark line below his navel where it disappeared into the band of his slacks.
Some of his impatience eased when he saw her watching him. He paused at his fly and began a slow tease that left her breathless with anticipation.
Inch by delicious inch, he peeled the material down his body until the dark hair at his groin became visible and then his cock slid out, distended and swollen.
When he was finally nude, he crawled onto the bed and straddled her body as he stared down as if memorizing every inch of her all over again.
“You’re so beautiful. So perfect. Perfect for me. Just the right amount of soft and sweet with a thread of steel at your very core. I don’t think a more perfect woman was ever made.”
Her breath caught and hiccupped out until her throat burned with emotion. He’d always been able to say the right thing. He didn’t throw words out carelessly. Everything he ever had to say was measured and weighed. And so exquisitely rendered.
He was a man who when he talked, others listened. There was something in his tone that commanded respect. And obedience.
“Do you want me, Callie? Do you want me like I want you?”
She swallowed and nodded.
“The words. I want the words.”
“Yes, I want you, Max,” she said in a low voice.
“Put your arms over your head.”
She raised her hands and leaned back until her arms were high above her head and her knuckles grazed the edge of the mattress.
Slowly he backed away from her and off the bed until he stood between her thighs. Then he slid his fingers up her legs to hook into the waistband of her lacy underwear.
He tugged gently, and the tiny scrap eased over her pussy and down her legs to her knees. Her legs trembled as he pulled her underwear the rest of the way off and she was naked and vulnerable to his gaze.
“Spread your legs for me,” he said. “I want to see you again. I want to taste you.”
She was barely able to comply, her knees shook so badly. She knew she was wet for him. Knew she wanted him so much. His touch. His tongue. His mouth. Everything. It had been so long. So very long.
Her heart and her body ached for him.
He leaned down and carefully thumbed through her folds, testing her softness. He dipped a finger into her opening and slid it upward, making her flesh slick with her desire.
He traced a circle around her clit until she squirmed and lifted her hips, wanting more.
“Keep your arms above you,” he reminded her when she would have lowered her hands to reach for him. “Or I’ll have to tie them.”
Oh God. Memories of her bound and completely at his mercy exploded through her mind. He’d tied her hands. He’d tied her legs. He’d had her complete submission. And he’d owned her body and soul over and over and over…
He lowered his head even as he parted her with his fingers. Warm air blew over her sensitive flesh as his breath huffed out just before his tongue touched her opening.
She strained upward only to be issued a sharp reprimand to be still. She panted, her chest heaving as she fought for control. It had simply been too long. She couldn’t possibly restrain herself. She couldn’t do his bidding when her body screamed for him.
“Please,” she begged. “I need you.”
He glanced up at her, his green eyes smoldering so hot she shivered. “Do you want it rough? Do you want me to take you now before you’re ready?”
“I’m ready,” she gasped out. “Please, Max.”
His hands curled around her knees, and he yanked her down until her ass rode the edge of the mattress. He spread her, positioned his cock and thrust forward.
His entry was a shock. No matter that she thought she was ready, he was big and swollen and it had been a long time for her. Her body hugged him so tight she wondered if it was even possible for him to go deeper.
He withdrew and then hammered forward, opening her ruthlessly with the force of his thrust. All the while his gaze was fastened on her. His eyes glittered. Wild. So unlike his usual controlled, cool stare.
His face was drawn with harsh lines. His lips were thin and flat, and his nostrils flared even as he powered into her again. Her body shuddered. She felt small and helpless, prisoner to the pleasure he took from her body.
She closed her eyes in bliss as her pussy rippled around his cock. She arched her body, stretching, welcoming him back.
“Open your eyes, Ca
llie. Look at me. Only at me.”
Her eyelids fluttered and she did as he directed.
His lips twisted savagely as he grasped her hips, opened her wider and forced himself deeper. He thrust so hard against her that her body shook. Her breasts jiggled with each movement, and the sharp slap of his groin against her ass sent a jolt of pleasure, razor sharp, through her belly.
He leaned over her, pinning her body to the mattress as his body powered over hers. In and out. Rougher, harder until she bit her bottom lip from the exquisite, overwhelming sensations bombarding her at every turn.
She wouldn’t last. Couldn’t. Not against his onslaught. Not after so long.
Pressure built, coiled in her belly and tightened every one of her muscles until she was weak from the strain. Her nipples beaded and puckered, and a thousand tiny chill bumps raced over her skin as the flames of her orgasm fanned higher and higher.
He was so big and she was so tight. She felt him in every part of her body, sliding like velvet through her most delicate tissues.
Not once did he pause. He pushed. Harder and harder. Relentless. His jaw bulged and he stared down at her, his gaze flashing over her face.
“Come.”
The quiet order was like a short fuse. It whipped over her body and unlocked something deep within her soul. Her release flashed like lightning. She let out a sharp cry and she came apart, piece by jagged piece.
Her vision dimmed. He and the room blurred but through it all she stayed locked on him. He’d demand no less. He was her anchor. Her shelter. Her strength. Her very soul.
He fell on her, gathering her into his arms as his hips rocked spasmodically against her. She felt the quick wetness between her legs, and the ease with which he slid into her body now.
For a long moment he lay over her body, blanketing her protectively, his chest pushing into hers as he sought to catch his breath.
Their legs were tangled, and he rubbed one hair-roughened limb up and down her thigh before he finally rolled to his side, taking her with him.
He pulled out of her in a warm rush of semen and then he pressed his lips to her forehead.
She stiffened and he went still. Her pulse bounded even as his hand came up to rub up and down her arm.