Laurella chuckled. “No doubt that was part of her plan, Papa.”
He grunted. “I miss you, tesoro. So does your mama. Come visit us soon.”
“Yes, soon,” Laurella said. “I love you, Papa.”
“I love you, too. Hold on. Your mama wants to talk with you.”
After she’d spoken to her mother, Laurella expected her homesickness to be much worse. But talking to her parents had given her comfort, peace. And her burgeoning relationship with Calum helped bring on a sense of belonging in her new home, in New York.
Exhausted, she crept into her bedroom. Alessia was fast asleep, her hair a dark, tangled mess, the sheets tossed to one side. Laurella quietly dressed for bed and slipped under the covers beside her sister. Alessia may have won this round, but no doubt, her ears would be ringing from the dressing down she’d get from Papa as soon as she called him in the morning.
Laurella entered her office the following Thursday with a spring in her step. She’d had an enjoyable few days with Alessia, and her batteries were well recharged. Her sister was heading back to Milan the next day, which meant that Laurella and Calum could carry on where they’d left off before Alessia’s untimely arrival.
Juggling a coffee, her laptop bag, and her purse, Laurella nudged open the door to her office with her hip. Inside, Calum was sitting in her chair, his feet resting on her desk.
“Morning,” he said, his wide smile tugging on her heart and flipping her stomach.
She kicked the door shut. “Out of my chair, Brook,” she said, setting her stuff on the desk. When he didn’t move, she knocked his feet to the floor. In an instant, she found herself sitting in his lap. He drew her head down to his and kissed her. He tasted of minty toothpaste and that morning’s caffeine fix.
When he flicked his tongue inside her mouth, she pulled away. “What if someone comes in?” she said, trying—and failing—to get off his lap.
“Unless it’s Zane, they’d better knock first, in which case, I’ll do the gentlemanly thing and let you go. If they don’t knock, I’ll fire their ass.”
She bent her head to the right. “And if it is Zane?”
Calum shrugged. “He’s seen worse from me.”
An uncomfortable feeling stirred within her. “I’ll bet he has,” she said quietly as she gripped his wrists and unwrapped his arms from around her. She stood, walked around to the other side of her desk, and removed the plastic lid from her coffee.
Calum chuckled. “Are you jealous?”
“No,” she said, a little too quickly.
“You are,” he said, laughing harder. “Oh, this is priceless.”
Laurella pretended to ignore him. Instead, she nonchalantly strolled over to her filing cabinet and took out a thick manila folder. She dropped it on her desk, but before she could open it, Calum got out of her chair and pulled her into his arms.
“I like this side of you.” He brushed his lips against hers. “It means you care.”
She snorted. “You think a lot of yourself, Calum Brook.”
“That goes without saying,” he said, grinning boldly. “The question is, what do you think of me? Based on that green tinge to your skin, I’d say quite a lot.”
“Don’t you have something you need to do?” she snapped.
He bent his head, his lips touching the shell of her ear. “Only you, Laurella. I need to do you, desperately.”
A hot flush rushed through her body. She’d never been so turned on by a man using words alone. As she remembered where they were, her professionalism made an unwelcome return. She twisted out of his arms and put some distance between them.
Calum laughed.
How has he figured me out so quickly?
“Did you enjoy your time off with Alessia?”
A smile came to her lips. “I did. We both had an amazing time, but it’s definitely made me want to plan a trip home to see the rest of my family. Speaking of family, I meant to ask you after the dinner at your place: what’s your issue with Indie? She seemed nice enough to me.”
His lips curled in a menacing manner. “She almost got Jax killed.”
Laurella’s skin tingled at his obvious malevolence. “What do you mean?”
Calum shook his head. “It’s a long story. Suffice it to say, she and her brother had a vendetta against my family, and Jax was the one they decided to target. Indie’s brother died. Jax didn’t. I’ll tell you the full story sometime.”
She read his abrupt end to her questioning as a signal to drop the subject, evidenced by the fact that he wrapped her in his arms once more. “When’s your sister flying home?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
“Tomorrow night it is, then.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Tomorrow night is when I truly make you mine.”
Chapter 15
Laurella checked—again—that she’d changed the towels in the bathroom. Not to mention that every time she passed the bed, she smoothed the sheets. She’d primped, preened, shaved any and all unwanted hair, slathered on body lotion, and dabbed perfume on her neck, behind her ears, and even in her cleavage. She’d spent time on her hair and makeup and tried to pick something to wear that ticked all the boxes, the most important one being easy access. In the end, she’d gone for a simple wrap dress with a tie at the waist. The last thing she needed was to be wearing some complicated outfit that took Calum forever to break into.
Oh hell. Anyone watching her would think she was desperate and easy. Desperate was certainly a good description. She was still smarting from their thwarted attempt a couple of nights earlier. She’d even gone so far as to stay at the airport until she was sure Alessia’s flight had taken off. Her other family members were safely in Italy—of that she was sure. Nothing stood in their way now.
This is happening. Tonight.
Her pulse jolted, her heart thudding against her ribcage. She’d never been a casual-sex kind of girl, but she didn’t know how to describe this thing with Calum. He kept using words like mine, and he’d called her his girlfriend at the family dinner. They certainly hadn’t rushed into anything—not least because they’d spent ninety percent of the time since they’d met at each other’s throats. But still, after tonight, would she need to change her Facebook status to ‘In a relationship’?
She glanced at her watch. He was late. What if he didn’t turn up at all? After all, he’d tricked her in Chicago. Maybe that was all this was—an elaborate ruse to cause her even more hurt.
She paced. Every few steps, she stopped, checked her cell, saw he hadn’t texted, then tossed it aside. When the anticipated knock at her door finally came, she jumped. Her mouth dried up, and she had to grab a towel to wipe her damp palms. With a glance in the mirror, she smoothed a hand over her skirt and went to the door. She drew to a halt, took a deep breath, and opened it.
In direct contrast to his usual business attire, Calum had gone for a completely casual look. If he intended to turn her on without even touching her, he’d succeeded. A pair of faded denims clung to his thighs and his white shirt was unfastened at the neck, giving her a peek of smooth, tanned skin. He smelled amazing, of bodywash and designer cologne. She took a deep breath through her nose. Her stomach vaulted, and she swore her heart actually skipped a beat.
“Are you going to let me in?” he asked, a curve to his lips telling her she’d probably been standing there gawking for some time. He held up a bottle of red wine. “I brought supplies.”
She stepped back, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Of course.”
He came in and curved a hand around her neck. He drew her in for a kiss—a long, lingering kiss that had her toes curling and her heartbeat racing.
He released her. “Where’s your corkscrew?” he asked, wandering into her kitchen.
“Top drawer. There on your right,” she said, still trying to recover from that panty-busting kiss, whereas Calum seemed completely relaxed and unaffected.
He set the bottle of wine on t
he countertop and fished about in her kitchen drawer. “Got it.” He opened the wine. The cork popped as he pulled it out.
“Here, let me get some glasses,” she said, finally working out how to put one foot in front of the other.
Calum poured the wine—a rather nice merlot—into both glasses and held one out to her. After she accepted it, he tapped his against hers. “To us,” he said.
A delicious tingle crept up her spine at the comment. She gulped down more than she really should, but her nerves were going crazy. She needed something to take the edge off. Unlike the other night, this date wasn’t spontaneous, which was giving her time to panic. When she simply stared at her wineglass, Calum removed it from her and placed it on the countertop next to his.
He captured a lock of her hair between his fingers and twisted it. “Where’s my always confident, sometimes quarrelsome woman gone?”
There he goes again. ‘My woman.’
She swallowed and licked her lips. His gaze fell to her mouth before he looked back into her eyes.
“She’s still here,” she said. “Just taking a break.”
Calum laughed. “I hope she isn’t on vacation too long.”
She frowned. “Why? Don’t you like this one?”
His arms went around her waist, and he tugged her close. “I like every single one. The crabby one. The combative one. The shy one. They’re all you, Laurella. And they’re all damned fine.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “See, you can be a nice guy.”
He cocked a brow. “Use the word ‘nice’ about me again, and I’ll show you just how un-nice I am.”
Before she could hit him with a comeback, he captured her mouth. The sound of her heart thundered in her ears—so loud, so strong she half expected her ribs to crack. She wound her hands around Calum’s neck and held on for dear life. Out of all the men she’d ever kissed—which wasn’t a whole lot—Calum easily won first prize. She didn’t want to think about how much practice he must have had to learn how to kiss so well.
“Laurella Ricci, you might well be the death of me,” Calum murmured against her swollen lips. He dipped his finger into his glass of wine. “Suck,” he said, placing it to her mouth.
Without hesitation, she drew his finger deep into her mouth. His eyes fell shut, and he groaned. She clenched her thighs together at his husky sigh.
He withdrew his finger, dragging the tip over her lips, her neck, before settling briefly between her breasts. Her breath snapped on a gasp of anticipated pleasure, but instead of exploring further, he picked up his wineglass and took a mouthful. His hand cupped her chin, and he kissed her, pouring the wine into her mouth. It was quite possibly the sexiest thing anyone had ever had done to her.
She swallowed the wine, and a plea fell readily from her lips. “More.”
Calum slowly blinked, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “God, you’re fucking perfect, woman.” He drank the wine again and repeated the action.
This time, it was Laurella’s turn to groan. “Let’s go to bed,” she said, her eyes half-closed. “I want to see if you’re as good as you think you are.”
Calum chuckled. “Now, there’s a challenge.”
When they walked into her bedroom, the smell from the scented candles she’d lit earlier filled the space, and the flickering light added sensuality to an already highly charged atmosphere.
Calum kicked the door shut. “Turn around,” he said softly. “Face the bed.”
Her pulse stuttered, but she did as he’d asked. She held her breath, so very ready to feel his hands on her. A few seconds passed. Her chest rose and fell rapidly while she waited. And waited. Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder.
“I said turn around,” he ordered, his tone low and commanding. Impossible to resist.
She closed her eyes, straining her ears for any rustling of clothes or quiet steps that would mean Calum had moved closer. Nothing. The speed of her breathing grew until she was almost panting, and still he didn’t put his hands on her.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Building the anticipation.” His lips touched her ear unexpectedly, and she jumped. “I want to savor every single second of this evening.”
Frustrated, she huffed. “The anticipation has been building for over two months, Calum.”
“Then it can’t hurt to wait another few minutes.”
She couldn’t see him, but the smile was there in his voice, his tone. He was teasing her, raising the stakes between them, seeing how far he could push before she snapped. She tensed, desperate for his touch but knowing if she begged, he’d make her wait even longer.
“Untie your dress and let it slip to the floor,” he said.
Tingles broke out all over her body. Whatever she’d thought sex with Calum would be like, she hadn’t expected this slow seduction. When she’d tried to imagine it, her mind had conjured up images of a wild, raw coming together—a man who would take her quickly, roughly even. She’d thought that the minute they walked into her bedroom, he’d have made his move.
She couldn’t have been more wrong. And a small voice, one she kept under lock and key because it reminded her of a girl she refused to be, whispered that she was glad. She needed tenderness, not animal sex. Not yet at least. Trust was a commodity very easily broken and almost impossible to repair—as she’d found out in the most brutal of circumstances.
She tugged on the tie, her fingers trembling. Her dress parted at the front, and she slid it from her shoulders. It fell in a heap on the floor.
He hissed. “You have the most amazing legs.” He swept her hair over her shoulder.
His tongue traced a path across the nape of her neck. She quivered in anticipation of pleasure that was almost within her reach.
Standing in her bra and panties, she waited. Again. Involuntarily, her head twitched to the side.
“Don’t move,” he demanded.
There was no doubt in her mind: Calum Brook was a master at seduction. Since walking into that room, he’d barely touched her, yet her panties were soaked with evidence of her arousal. Her mind boggled at what he’d make her feel when he finally put his hands on her bare skin.
His breath feathered the back of her neck. The hairs there stood on end, and she tensed, craving his touch.
“Turn around. Look at me.”
She slowly pivoted. Heat licked through her veins as she stared into his eyes, those dark pools of intense green that had somehow touched her heart and given her hope that she might, in time, be capable of having a normal relationship.
His gaze tracked over her, scorching her already heated skin. “I knew you’d be stunning, but my imagination didn’t do you justice.” His fingertips grazed her sides, feathering up and down while those hauntingly beautiful eyes locked on hers.
“Calum, please,” she groaned.
His answering smile was crooked, teasing. Annoying. “So impatient.”
He kicked off his sneakers, simultaneously unfastening the buttons on his shirt. He tossed it to one side. Although Laurella had seen Calum’s naked chest before, she’d been so furious and full of hatred that she hadn’t wanted to admit to his perfection. But now, this close, near enough to touch, she simply stared. He was like a work of art. Firm, hard chest muscles. Defined deltoids and broad shoulders—she’d always been a fan of shoulders—and biceps big enough to make any girl feel safe and protected.
She placed her palm flat against his pecs. He closed his eyes and swayed a little. His hand came over the top of hers.
“I want to explore,” she said.
He made a noise in the back of his throat. “Go ahead.”
She stepped closer. She clutched his biceps, and bent her head, flicking her tongue over his nipple. She sucked it into her mouth.
“Laurella.” The word came out on a breath, more sighed than spoken.
When she moved to the other nipple, his hands gripped the back of her head, his fingers knitting into her hair. She inse
rted a finger into the waistband of his jeans, and her nail scraped the blunt head of his cock. Oh, that had promise.
His hips jerked, and he groaned loudly. “Take ’em off,” he ground out.
She smiled against his chest. With each passing second, her confidence grew, and the woman she now was came out to play. He’d tortured her. It was her turn. Payback time.
She straightened and curved her hands around the back of his neck. “So impatient,” she said, mirroring his earlier words.
“Fuck’s sake, woman,” he said, his jaw clenched. “Either you take them off, or I will.”
Taking pity on him—at least that was what she told herself—she unfastened the button on his jeans and unzipped the fly. She slid her hands around his back and dipped inside, cupping his ass. Oh yeah. She’d been right about how firm his butt would be.
She eased down his jeans, gradually revealing taut thighs covered in a dusting of dark hair. She crouched down and, unable to resist, kissed his thick erection through his boxers. It jerked as though it had a mind of its own.
“Fuck. Me.” Calum stepped out of his jeans and bent his knees, his hands cupping her ass. He picked her up and laid her gently on the bed. Crawling after her, he parted her thighs, leaning on them with his forearms. He pressed warm, gentle kisses to the soft skin on the insides of her legs, slowly inching upward. Unable to take her eyes off him, Laurella watched as he kissed her through her panties. Her legs twitched when he eased the delicate material to one side. With those wicked green eyes focused on hers, his tongue swept over her slit—and then he slipped it inside her.
Laurella arched her back and groaned. Jesus—the man knew how to go down on a woman. Not that she had a whole range of other men to compare him to, but she knew good when she saw it—or rather, felt it. He applied just the right amount of attention to her clit, his fingers and tongue moving in perfect harmony, and when he sensed her getting closer, he increased the speed and pressure.
Against All Odds (A Brook Brothers Novel Book 2) Page 12