Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Callie
I check my phone again when I get home from work. My shoulders slump as I heave out a breath. Emmett still hasn’t texted me back. He never takes this long to respond.
Did I get too personal, asking about man problems like I did? I mean, it’s not like I gave him any specific details, or anything. He told me about his fiancée’s fatal accident. And he also told me we could stretch the “no personal information” rule if I ever needed to talk.
I’m probably overthinking it. Emmett was probably just busy when I texted and forgot to get back to me afterward. It happens. Right?
I’m not going to stress over it anymore. I have plans with Royal tonight. He’s the one I should be focused on, not an anonymous pen pal who obviously has more important things to do than chat with me.
God, I sound bitter, even to myself.
It’s fine. All good. I’m sure Emmett will get back to me, eventually. And if he doesn’t, it’s no big deal. Really. It’s fine.
Pushing him from my mind, I shower, shave, blow dry my hair into fat waves, then dress in my favorite jeans and a soft sweater that hangs off one shoulder with no bra. I smile around my toothbrush as I imagine Royal discovering its absence, and when I finish brushing my teeth, I apply some deodorant and spritz on some sweet-smelling perfume.
On my way to Royal’s, I stop by the store where I found his favorite beer to grab a six-pack. I don’t want to show up for dinner emptyhanded, and he appreciated the gesture last time. When I get back into my car, I flip down my visor to check my reflection. I only used a powder foundation, a swipe of dark mascara to make my eyes pop, and the peel-off lip stain I keep seeing all over social media. It makes me look prettier, and there’s very little to smudge or run should I end up staying the night. In other words, I won’t wake up looking like a demented clown.
At Royal’s apartment, I smile and jiggle the beer in the air when he swings the door open. His eyes widen as they bypass my offering to blaze a trail down my body and back up again. Grabbing my free hand, he groans and tugs me inside before he kicks the door closed. Then he pulls me into his arms for a long hug.
Kissing my temple, he murmurs, “You look so good right now.”
“Thanks. So do you,” I say when he releases me.
He’s wearing a pair of dark-washed jeans and a light blue button-down with the sleeves cuffed to his elbows. He obviously knows I like looking at his forearms since he wears his shirts like that every time I see him outside of work.
“Thanks,” he says, then takes the beer from me, adding, “And thanks for this. Go ahead and take a seat at the table. Dinner is almost ready.”
“It smells delicious,” I call out as he walks to the refrigerator to stow the six-pack. “What are you making?”
“Parmesan-crusted chicken, fettucine, and Caesar salad,” he calls out as he opens the oven.
“Sounds wonderful.”
“I hope it is,” he says as he straightens and turns toward me. “What would you like to drink? I have white wine and red, the beer you brought, of course, or I can mix you a vodka soda. Or if you don’t want alcohol, I’ve got sparkling or flat water, some lemon-lime sodas, and apple juice.”
“I feel like I’m at a restaurant, with all those options,” I tease, and one corner of his mouth lifts into a twisted smile. “I’ll just have ice water, please. Flat.”
“You got it,” he says with a grin before making my drink and bringing it over to me.
Just watching him walk toward me makes my heart thump and my thighs squeeze together. Yeah. I don’t want to be even slightly buzzed tonight. I want to be clear-headed and present for every second.
After making himself a glass of ice water, too, Royal takes a sip and sets it aside before pulling the chicken from the oven. Plating up the meat, some noodles, and a small heap of salad for both of us, he brings a steaming plate to me before going back for his own and his glass of water.
Sliding into the chair across from me, he smiles and says, “Bon appétit.”
Picking up the cloth napkin next to my plate, I spread it over my lap before picking up my fork and taking a bite of my salad. I nod at Royal, who’s watching me expectantly, to let him know it’s good. He watches me as he eats, making sure I like the pasta and the chicken, too, then seems to relax when I gush over how delicious it is.
“Tell me your favorite childhood memory,” he says, and I squint one eye as I think.
“If I have to pick,” I say slowly, “I’d say it’s the year my parents took me and my sister to Big Bear for winter break. We rented a cabin for a week with a view of the lake, and it snowed all day on Christmas. We built a snowman, went sledding, and had a few snowball fights. I was eleven, and it was pure heaven. I’ve loved the snow ever since.”
“It sounds magical,” he says quietly. “Do your parents live nearby?”
“Not too far,” I say after eating another bite of chicken. “They’re retired, and they moved to a senior community near Las Vegas. Joey and I try to visit every couple of months, and on holidays, they come to us.”
“Joey?”
I nod. “It’s short for Josette.”
“Calliope and Josette. I like it,” Royal muses with a soft smile.
“Yeah, my mom and dad didn’t want to give us common names. Dad always says unique people need unique names.”
“You’re definitely one of a kind, Calliope Barnes,” he says, his voice just above a whisper.
My core throbs at the look in his eyes, and I clear my throat before changing the subject. “What about you? Do you have family nearby?”
“My brother, Linc, lives in Grenville,” he says. “He’s a contractor, so he stays busy, but we try to get together to catch up every couple of weeks.”
I nod. “And your parents?”
“Florida,” he says. “They’re retired, too, and they bought a condo in this tiny town called Sweet Pea.”
“Sweet Pea?” I ask on a laugh, and he nods.
“I know, right? But it’s a nice place, and they love it there. Linc and I fly there a couple of times a year to visit. Usually once in the summer so we can enjoy the beach, and once around the holidays.”
We continue to chat as we eat, learning more about each other in the process, but I’m having a hard time concentrating on the conversation with Royal’s eyes devouring me like he’d rather have me for dinner than the meal he made. By the time we’re finishing up, my nipples are hard and my thighs are clenched together for dear life.
“I think I’m full,” he declares finally, pulling his napkin from his lap and tossing it onto his plate.
I copy him, throwing my napkin onto my plate before pushing out of my chair. Royal watches me as I round the table, then scoots his chair back to make room for me as I approach and straddle his lap. His arms circle around me, his hands splaying across my back as I thread my fingers through his hair.
We kiss, and he wastes no time driving his tongue into my mouth, proving he’s as hungry for me as I am him. His hands glide down my back to grip my ass, grinding me against him. Then they slide back up beneath my sweater, and he groans into my mouth. One hand slips around to my chest to squeeze my bare breast gently, and he groans again. My hips buck at the touch, and Royal suddenly stands and carries me to the kitchen counter.
Setting me atop it, he kisses me for another minute before pulling back to meet my eyes. He holds the contact while his hands find the button and zipper of my jeans. I nod when he pauses, and he exhales audibly before undoing the closure. I hold onto his shoulders for support as I lift my ass off the counter, and he strips my jeans and underwear down at once.
“Time for dessert,” he says in a low, thick voice as he pulls the material free of my feet.
Pushing my knees apart, he steps between them and kisses me for a long moment before pulling back to jerk my sweater over my head. His eyes light with an internal flame as he looks down at my chest, then he dips his head to lick at one pebbled nipple. My eyes close, and my head falls back as something that sounds like a relieved sigh slips through my parted lips.
Royal nips and sucks my nipple for an eternity as his hands smooth up and down my thighs, then he moves left to pay the same attention to the other one. I’m a shaking, writhing mess by the time he’s done, and he presses a single, hard kiss to my mouth before taking a step back, leaning over, and running his tongue along my center. I lean back until my head touches the countertop, my spine bowed upward. A long, feral moan vibrates out of me as Royal’s tongue finds the spot where I need it most.
His groan rattles against my sensitive flesh just before he pushes two fingers inside me. My inner walls clench around the digits, and Royal’s tongue lashes my clit as he curls his fingers upward to find that special spot inside me. Electricity sparks through my body when his fingertips brush against it, and I shout at the shock.
Royal sucks my clit gently before touching the spot again, and an orgasm explodes through me, lighting my body on fire. I groan his name, and Royal releases my clit to lick at it slowly, gently, as I float back to Earth.
Straightening, he steps out of the cradle of my thighs and to the side before sliding one arm beneath my knees and the other under my back. Scooping me up like I weigh nothing, he holds me against his chest and kisses the top of my head.
And without a word, he carries me to his bed.